


No One Takes Down Hit Girl but Hit Girl

by Carathay



Series: No One Takes Down Hit Girl but Hit Girl [1]
Category: Kick-Ass (Movies)
Genre: Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Loss of Virginity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-08
Updated: 2016-06-12
Packaged: 2018-05-25 13:49:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 17
Words: 37,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6197455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Carathay/pseuds/Carathay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hit Girl returns to town a few months after the end of Kick Ass 2 without much of an idea of what to do with her life.  Sure she'd figured out that she's Hit Girl, not Mindy.  But the transition from girl to woman is proving to be a little bit more difficult to navigate. Especially when she needs to convince the other people in her life that she has changed. Then an accidental shot to the head during a patrol leads to her being more dependent on Dave then she can handle.</p><p>This story is written from the viewpoint that Mindy is talking to the reader/viewer.  And also making fun of them, swearing at them, and anything else she can think of.  </p><p>The story continues in 'It Takes One to Raise One.'<br/>How Mindy got into this messed up mental state is covered in 'On the Run', a prequel intended to be read after this story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> o One Takes Down Hit Girl But Hit Girl
> 
> Inspired by Makokam, especially the challenge where Mindy was supposed to be confined to bed rest for 24 hours. (Although this is a full story, not a 24 hour piece.) Set post movie 2. I like that movie 2 made her 15 so I'm using that. Dave can think of her as a child, or as a sister, but I need for her to be a bit closer to his age. I'm sure all of you that enjoy these stories won't have a problem figuring out what's going on. This story is written from the viewpoint that Mindy is talking to the reader/viewer. And also making fun of them, swearing at them, and anything else she can think of.

"Ow."

That's what Dave claimed I said. I didn't manage a "Fuck!" or a "Cocksucker!" or even some drawn out scream of rage. Not even an emphatic "OW!" I just said "Ow" quietly and collapsed onto the street. Then I woke up in the hospital after they had performed surgery on my brain.

Apparently, I'd been hit in the head by a ricochet from my own fucking gun. At least, that's what Dave and I thought. I had just taken a shot at some sleezebag and neither one of us saw or heard anyone else with a gun. So mine was the only bullet flying. The doctors removed part of a bullet from my head and luckily it hadn't hit anything important. Well, I guess my brain was important but the bullet didn't damage my actual brain tissue. And uckily, there wasn't enough left of the bullet that they could match it to the slugs I'd put into a bunch of crack dealers the night before. Since it had no use as evidence, they gave it to me as a souvenir.

I've got to remember to change my guns out more often. If that CSI show is even remotely true, the police are way too good at matching up that type of shit.

Yes, that's right. Hit Girl had not been taken out by a bad guy, a drug dealer, or a super villain. I'd managed to shoot myself in the head. Seriously, I shot myself in the head. That kind of needs to be said twice. I'm not sure how long the experience would take to get from really fucking frustrating to admitting that it was pretty funny. But in no way was I anywhere near that. Dave had tried to make bit of joke out of it, maybe to cut the tension. If I could have attacked him from out of this bed, I would have.

Stupidly, I was still a little pissed off and ashamed about the 'ow'. It wasn't all that superhero like to sound like some kid who had poked her finger. But, I guess you didn't really get to choose your exit line. We hadn't gotten a lot of time to talk yet, but Dave had managed to give me enough of the lie he told so that I didn't totally fuck up. I was supposed to claim that I'd been attacked, but the thugs hadn't managed to rape me or anything before Kick-Ass had shown up. Dave said he'd had to strip me half nude before he could safely bring me into the emergency room so that was the best story he could come up with. He had dropped me off as Kick-Ass and claimed he found me in a dark alley. Then he disappeared while they were worrying about me. Finally, he returned as Dave, a concerned friend who was there to identify me.

I couldn't fault the plan. If he had brought me in with weapons, armor, and purple hair, I might have survived the bullet wound but then ended up as the first 15 year old girl on Death Row. The police really wanted to catch me since I've made them look like a bunch of pussies on the news. Hell, maybe I wouldn't have even lived that long. I'd made a lot of enemies and a hospital room was pretty easy to sneak into. They killed Dave's dad in jail right under the noses of the guards. I'd have been easy to snuff. I had to give Dave credit for thinking of it while blood was pouring out of my head.

I still can't believe I missed Dave stripping me. Fuck that would have been fun. Oh, I suppose I should have been thinking about other things, but I was still kind of floating on all the drugs they have me on so I was just thinking about it all happy like. With me all purple like and then the purple being taken off by a green person, leaving me all pink like, then the green person starting to take off the green and then the two pink people kind of meshing. The sound of the door opening shook me out of my daydream. Dave came in. I blushed a bright crimson as I recalled my dream. I fucking hate blushing. I have an amazing poker face but I can't control a blush. I guess it was better than being a guy, because Dave would have been able to see how excited I was through this thin hospital gown. It would have been tent city.

"Why are you blushing?" he asked. "I mean, you never blush."

In panic, I quickly decided to trade one embarrassment for another. " I, umm, I need to go – umm – to the bathroom. And, I don't know, like, umm, I mean, I can't get up and… Could you call a fucking nurse please?"

Yes, I said please. I was panicking, OK?

I was interrupted by machines beeping loudly nearby and someone in the next room yelled "Code Blue! Code Blue!"

It was at this point that I realized that my excuse wasn't bullshit. I really did need to pee. Desperately. Like, my back teeth were floating kind of thing. I kind of twisted myself to look out the window in the door. It appeared that everyone in the ward had descended on the one cocksucker attempting to die in the next room. "Dave – a nurse?! I really need to... Please?! "

Fuck, there I was with the wimpy 'please' again.

He pressed the call nurse button and then tried to flag down one of the nurses in the hallway. She was extremely short with him when he asked for help. "Is she dying?" the nurse asked. Dave stammered out a "No" and the nurse replied "Well, then she'll have to wait." I somehow managed to resist screaming "Cunt!" at her as she hurried next door. I'm not quite sure how.

I mean, I didn't want the guy to fucking die, but I needed help. FEMALE HELP! I mean, I didn't care if Dave saw me naked as a jaybird, but this was different. Dave looked back at me, his face a study in fear. My mind froze. I'd had to make hundreds, maybe thousands of life or death decisions in an instant. Who do I attack first, what is the best counter to an attack, when to duck and when to charge in. All of those decisions I made in less than a tenth of a second. But it took forever to decide that pissing the bed was infinitely worse than asking Dave for help. I managed a kind of inarticulate scream of rage, then growled very quietly "Dave, get me the fucking bedpan." He stared at me for a moment, like a pedophile does at one of my knives sticking out of his crotch. That look hurt. "Grab it!" I command.

As he turned to get it, I tried to arch myself up so he could slide it under me. I barely moved. Apparently the drugs meant that my muscles were for shit. My voice cracked some as I told him to lift me up, and then I barely managed to ask him to make sure the goddamn gown was out of the way before I had to let loose. He held me but turned his head to give me what privacy he could.

I'd like to put this more delicately ('cause, you know, I'm really fucking good at that…) but I proceeded to piss like a racehorse. And the fucking pan was metal, which means it was cold on my ass and the sound echoed out of it. It was not a sound that either of us could ignore, although we both really fucking tried. I finished and he turned back, eased it out from under me, and then lowered me back down to the bed. He tried to mumble something about wiping. Oh shit. That would be more than I could handle. I mumbled back something about drip drying. I lay back and closed my eyes; I tried to pretend this hadn't happened. I couldn't believe I needed help to pee. I was terrified at the fact that I couldn't take care of such a basic task. I helped people. They didn't help me. And, after my earlier sexy daydream, I couldn't help thinking that this had been the least sexy experience I'd ever had. And it was with Dave. Dave and I had had some bad experiences, so that was saying something. It was yet another reason for him to think of me as a child. Shit. Maybe I was just a child…

Eventually, the fucker next door decided he wasn't going to die right this minute and the nurse came back to check on me. She yelled at Dave for moving me and then shoved him out the door so she could clean me up. She gave me an apologetic look. "I'm so sorry, honey. I mean, couldn't you have waited a little longer?" When she saw the shame in my eyes that I couldn't hide, she sighed. "Oh dear. I guess you couldn't. Poor baby." She finished getting me settled, and then when she turned to go, I started to fucking cry. I mean, seriously bawl. I couldn't stop. I'd never been this helpless, this weak, this needy! And for it to be in front of Dave who I knew was waiting outside until he could come back in… Fuck!

After a few minutes of trying to comfort me, the nurse asked if I wanted her to let Dave back in. Again, it took me forever to decide. I was so confused. No one, not even my daddy, was allowed to see me cry like this. Well, not after about age 4 or so. Every frigging baby cried, they couldn't help it. But by the time I was four, I'd heard enough speeches from Daddy on being a tough girl that I was too proud to let him see me upset. I might not have been Hit Girl yet, but damn it, no one got to see me vulnerable. Even when Daddy died, I didn't cry like this. I screamed. I yelled. I pushed the pain down to make an even more solid rock to stand on. Oh well, what was a bit more shame on top of everything else that had happened. I motioned for her to let him in.


	2. Chapter 2

Dave entered the hospital room cautiously after I had brought myself back under control. Before he could say a word, I growled "If you ever tell anyone about that, "I gestured in the direction of the bedpan" I'll rip out your fucking balls and use them for table tennis! " He actually smiled at that. Definitely not the reaction I expected. Dave usually took my threats seriously. I realized that being covered in tears might be the problem and tried to nonchalantly wipe them away with the back of my hand. I don't think it helped. He kept grinning while I glared at him. Of course, a doctor picked that moment to join us. What was this? The crying Mindy show? Did someone sell fucking tickets?

"Oh, what the fuck now?" I asked. He seemed a bit taken aback my language, but rolled with it. I supposed that working in an ER meant he'd heard worse. "Sorry we had to knock you out while we took care of you. You started regaining consciousness as we were examining you, and, well, I'll just say you're a very strong young lady. It took two of our biggest orderlies to hold you down while we gave you the shot. Oh, you will see a charge for the broken window on your hospital bill though. I'm not sure if you remember that part. We have it on security video if you want to see it." I tried not to smile. That actually made me feel better; even half out of it, I could still put up a fight.

The doctor continued. "We kept you under until the surgery was over. It seemed safer that way. The bullet fragment was small. No brain injury is ever insignificant, but we don't think there will be any lasting damage. With any luck, you'll be just fine. But if you experience anything strange, dizziness, weakness, numbness, even problems with memory or speech, let us know right away."

I nodded back at him. I wasn't feeling all that lucky at the moment and none of those side effects sounded pleasant.

He continued. "If you have someone to take care of you, you can go home today. We don't want you walking around much for the next few days. And, let us know if anything odd happens, OK?"

"No problem, thanks for fixing my head." I told him. I guess he liked that response because he went ahead and put my chart back on the bed and walked out the door. That left me, Dave, and the nurse still in the room. I looked at Dave and couldn't resist trying to get some of my spark back. "You ready to take me home, honeybun?" Unfortunately, I didn't get as much as a blush out of him. "Sure, "he replied. "I've got everything set up at home to take care of you."

There was that "take care of me" shit again. I wasn't a damn infant. Just had a little lead to the head. Fucking sweet! It rhymed. I'd be fine on my own. I tried to sit up and the world swam before my eyes. Maybe I wouldn't be so fine. "I brought you some clothes so you don't have to go home in a hospital gown. They're a bit drafty."

"A bit?" I asked, and then continued. "Thanks. I don't think I could have handled being stuck in this room any longer. I've have had to kill someone and some pussy screaming 'code blue' wouldn't have saved them." He reached down and picked up a backpack I had missed him bringing in before. "Here are the clothes. I'll let the nurse help you. Probably safer for my health."

Given my mood, I had to agree. Dave got me checked out of the hospital, taken in a wheelchair to his car (I hate that hospital rule!) and bundled me up in the back. I sarcastically asked him where in the fuck my car seat was and he just laughed again. As we pulled away, I just stared out the window and thought about how I'd gotten here.

You see, I'd come back to the city about 2 months after we defeated the Motherfucker. Marcus had known I left; he even saw a shot of me leaving on the news. Not an actual report on me, but some cunt rag Skycam News helicopter had caught me crossing the bridge on my bike. Complete with fucking JJ Abrams lens flare and everything. The station apparently loved the shot because they now they showed it every time they went to the weather bimbo. I had looked pretty cool. Marcus had realized it was me right away and what my leaving had really meant. Admittedly the purple bike had been a bit obvious. And, once the police department decided that none of what happened had been his fault, he'd been allowed to transfer to another department across the country. I think the public aftermath of that last fight broke his spirit. He didn't try to contact me. Didn't even try my cell or my backup cell. Just packed up and left. But I'd gotten a little ahead of myself.

I had given it two months to calm down before I came back to see anyone. I figured it would be quiet enough that I could at least say hi. When I got to Marcus's place, I found a note under the rock where we kept the spare key. That wasn't a good sign, but I was nervous and just shoved it in my pocket to read later. Then, I discovered the house was empty. That felt really strange. Our home was no longer a home. Not even the furniture was left. Now I was afraid that it might be a trap so I grabbed a few irreplaceable things out of the house and got out quick. Sure the police had searched the place from top to bottom, but I'd rigged a few hiding places that no one was going to find. I packed everything up, jumped on my bike, and headed for the safe house.

Once I'd gotten in and set all the alarms, I pulled the note out of my pocket and sat down. It wasn't long. It explained how and why he left, about being cleared of charges and him seeing the fucking weather shot of me. He said didn't know and didn't even want to know if I came back. He left the note because he didn't want me to follow him. He said I was my Daddy's daughter and that Daddy had won. He was done. He needed to leave this city and me behind forever. I stared at it. He didn't even sign it. No, 'Goodbye, Marcus'. No 'Love, Marcus'. No 'Good Luck'. I ripped up the note, but the words were still tattooed on my brain. My now 'bullet scarred brain'; I had to add as we crossed the bridge and the shadows of the beams fell across me like prison bars.

I just had to sit there and accept it. Marcus was gone. And not because he had been killed. Not as part of the war or to keep someone safe, or like anything in a comic book. Then I could have avenged him. Or rescued him. I could have put him in the special place in my heart where I remembered Daddy and Mommy. But Marcus was still alive. He'd left because he never wanted to see me again. I wasn't worth all of the trouble and all of the pain. That hurt in a way I'd never felt before. "Fuck you!" I screamed at the darkness. It didn't help. Then I pulled myself together and went to find Dave.

I'd found him rather easily. He was living alone in his house, finishing school and keeping in shape. He made up big fuss over me, got a room put together, got me fed, and then let me sleep. It was all the things that Marcus would have done if he hadn't pussied out. I wanted someone, anyone, to take care of me. Marcus was gone, and for the first time ever, I didn't have a father type person. Dave would have to do.

Two months on my own had taught me that even though I was Hit Girl, living on my own sucked. What's the point of taking down some fucking scumbag drug dealer or throwing 5 knives in a one inch circle if you didn't have someone to share it? Someone to boast to, someone to tease, just someone to sit with at the end of the night before I went to bed. Someone to share cocoa with. I'd never been alone. It was horrid. And, so, I didn't mind Dave taking care of me. At least at first.


	3. Chapter 3

The car jostled me a bit as we drove off the bridge, shaking me out of my revelry. "Dave," I asked, "Where are you taking me?"

"My house, of course." He replied. "I want to get you back in your bed, and then I'll run out to the pharmacy and grocery store while you rest."

"Do you really think that's a good idea?" I asked. "I mean, I know you told me when I got here that you figured everyone who knew who you were was dead, but what if you're wrong? I was alright with it then, 'cause at least I could defend myself, but…"

"My decision. I'm taking care of you." He said, with a finality I'd never seen in him before I came back. That was just one of the changes I'd observed since I got back into town. I looked back out the window let my thoughts wander again.

I had been kind of brain dead after leaving Marcus' place. I'd climbed into Dave's window and scared the crap out of him when I woke him. Even in my numbed state, that never stopped being fun. I explained about Marcus leaving. Dave realized that I wasn't up to being by myself so he set me up in a bedroom at his place pretty quick. After that, I didn't do much but eat, sleep, and make non-committal noises at him when he tried to talk to me. Well, at least for the first few days. During the day, he was at school and I just zoned. In the evening, we'd sit on the couch and watch TV. By the time the show was over, I was usually pretending to be asleep with my head on his lap. I didn't actually nod off because it felt too good to have someone hold me. It was so amazing to be safe. He played with my hair, as all guys seem to instinctively know how to do when a girl is upset and then he'd pick me up and put me to bed. I felt like I was a little girl again. And I didn't mind. The outside world sucked.

After a couple of days, I felt up to conversations again, and started telling him about my time away. I'd hit up a guy who did fake ID's on my way out of town but I had still wanted to be cautious. So, I'd moved around a lot and mostly stayed in shabby motels that didn't ask too many questions. He laughed when I told him that after the first night, I'd gone to the store and bought my own set of sheets and pillows that I took from room to room. I mean, those hotels were disgusting. But they were a good place to disappear. It's a little hard to travel on a motorcycle with a big backpack stuffed with sheets and pillows but I made it work. I told him about trying to get my hair even when I cut it myself and how dying it black had stained my pillow. I saw a smile twitch on the corner of his mouth and I quickly told him that if he made one joke about the carpet not matching the drapes, he'd be a dead motherfucker. He proceeded to point out that The Motherfucker was already dead, and we laughed about that until we couldn't breathe. I felt a bit better and even admitted I'd had to get another fake ID because the picture didn't match anymore and no one would take it. More hysterical laughter followed. That had been a good night. It did a lot to cheer me up.

I told him that while I hadn't exactly patrolled while I was gone. I'd wandered through bad neighborhoods when I was feeling especially antsy and just beat up anyone who threatened me. He asked if I'd been in costume, and I'd had to point out to the dumbass that I hadn't exactly left town with a suitcase. He then asked about weapons, and I just stared at him until he broke eye contact and said "Never mind." I didn't tell him that I'd really picked fights in those alleys because I didn't know what to do with myself when I wasn't being Hit Girl. That while pummeling some scumbag didn't help me feel any better, it helped me get through a bad night. About how broken I'd felt curled up in my clean sheets on top of a filthy hotel bed in the middle of hell.

Finally, I shrugged off the depression and started getting back in shape. Maybe I could get my life and self respect back if Dave and I started going out together. Going out to break heads I mean, not dating. He joined me in the workouts and it was great at first. Except that he wasn't treating me as a partner; he treated me like a wounded animal. No amount of beating the shit out of him in practice changed that. He even mentioned that having me there was like having a sister. I wasn't sure how to take that.

There were other adjustments over the next few weeks of living together. They were the things you learn to deal with when you live with someone that you'd never even think about if you lived separately. He didn't worry about walking around without a shirt on and that made me feel nervous and fluttery inside. The house only had one bathroom, so of course we were sharing it. We fought over space by the sink. We argued about who would clean the bathroom. Underwear was left on the floor. We even had one of those really awkward moments when I realized there was no toilet paper and I had to yell for him to go get me another roll. After that I double checked every time before I sat down! Then there were even more intimate but commonplace things like him mentioning that I was on my period because of the wrappers in the trash and me yelling at him for stinking up the bathroom right before I was going to take a shower.

I'd dealt with similar stuff with Daddy and Marcus. It was just part of living with someone. But with Dave it was different. I'd re-entered Dave's life as a messed up kid climbing in the window. Not as a partner. Not even as a friend. That seemed to have set the whole tone of our relationship. Dave wasn't my dad but sure he tried to act like it. I didn't know how to change it. I wasn't in control.

Finally, I cracked. I told him I wanted us to go out on patrol. Old school. Costumes and everything. I couldn't take the father-daughter or brother-sister shit any longer. I figured it would help us get back to being real partners, especially when I saved his ass. Dave just said 'no' and went back to doing the fucking dishes. After a moment of stunned silence, I told him to get his shit together or he could go fuck himself. But he just said 'No' again and picked up another fucking plate! So, I told him what else he could fuck, in what hole, and at what angle. He said "No" yet again. As if his saying it was supposed to make some sort of difference. We yelled back and forth, sounding like one of those drama's on ABC Family, but with more swearing. Maybe ABC Family Unrated. Or ABC Family after dark. No, not that one. That would have been soft core porn.

I shoved him out of my way and ran up to my room to change into my suit. When he finally recovered from the fall, he ran after me. I hadn't bothered to shut the door and by the time he got there, I was half naked. That actually helped because as soon as he realized I was undressed, he ducked back out of the room and started yelling at me from the hallway. Somehow that pissed me off even more. Fucking hell, they were just tits! Pretty great looking tits, if I do say so myself, bit just tits! But, he just yelled at me some more with his eyes safely hidden while I zipped up, grabbed my knives and a gun, and climbed out the window. He must have been really afraid of seeing me naked because I was most of the way down the block before he'd realized I was outside and started yelling out the window at me. I flipped him the bird and headed off.

He found me downtown about an hour later. He was in costume. He tried to whisper-yell at me but I wasn't listening and he wasn't willing to make enough noise to get us in trouble. So, he gave up and followed me. Eventually, the walking helped me to get my temper under control and I started smiling like a banshee because I had won. We were out patrolling. Maybe this was going to turn out OK after all. He'd just found out that he didn't control me. He didn't have to be my protector. He wasn't my dad. I looked back at him with my evil smile. His eyes clearly said that he had given up.

As we walked, he seemed to relax as well. I began to dream about the conversation we would have when we got back. Less anger, less swearing, but him understanding that I could take care of myself. I even started to put together the arguments I would use in my head and think about what he would say back. In fact, I got so wrapped up my imaginary conversation that I didn't see the scumbag pop out from behind a building and take a shot at us. Dave pushed me frantically out of the way, saving my life. There was no doubt. Once I saw the guy, I knew where the bullet went. And it would have hit me square in the chest. Which, since I hadn't taken the time to put on my vest, would likely have killed me. I pulled my gun and fired back. The last thing I remember hearing is that bullshit ricochet sound they used in bad Westerns and a pain in my head. And as I said at the beginning of all this, Dave claimed that I just said 'ow' and then just fucking fell over. You already know what happened next, I told you at the beginning of this fucking story. I'm too mortified to repeat it. Other than to say that thank God Dave took the cocksucker out quick and then got me to the hospital.

My reverie was disturbed when I looked up to notice that we were now in Dave's neighborhood. A few more blocks and then we parked in front of the house. He got out and came around to my side. I opened the door but just sat there.

"Do you want me to carry you in or help you walk, or …" He trailed off. "Thank you for asking." I said, with the hint of a smile. "I'm still fucked up with drugs so I'll let you carry me." He scooped me out of the car and kicked the door closed with his foot. We walked up the steps and I went ahead and laid my head down on his chest. What the hell, I didn't have any dignity left anyway and it felt so damn good. Dave clumsily juggled me and his keys to try to get the door unlocked. At one point, he was basically holding me up with one hand under my ass. I liked that. Then we got inside, the door got closed with a kick, and he started to walk toward the stairs with me. "No" I said clearly. "Couch. Not bed." Jesus fucking Christ, I had even started using baby talk. I tried to pull my thoughts together a bit more so I could speak in complete sentences, but when he surprisingly agreed and put me where I wanted to be, I figured, 'fuck it.' I decided that I'd play it for all it was worth. "Cocoa. Pink Marshmallows. Now!" "Sure" he said, and meekly went into the kitchen to get me my drink. I realized I was slipping into that child role again, but somehow I didn't care. My last attempt at fighting him got me shot in the head. By my own gun. At least this way I got Cocoa. "Lots of marshmallows!" I yelled through the kitchen door. While I say there waiting, I realized my approach with him so far hadn't worked at all. So, like they said in the movies, it was time to start thinking with my head instead of my dick… Not that I had a dick… God damn it, why are all of those movies written by men!


	4. Chapter 4

Dear sodding Ann Landers. Or God. Or Thor. Or whoever the fuck is listening to this story coming out of my head. It's Mindy. I mean, who the fuck else would it be? Sorry. Hi. Can you talk back? No?! Shit! Maybe that bullet did do some brain damage. Guess I could have been a bit more polite, huh? Maybe I'm still in the hospital. Or dead. Holy shit, am I dead? No, that's just fucking confusing. Life would be better than this if I was dead. Wait, I wouldn't have a life if I was dead. But surely whatever came after life would be better and Daddy would be here… Look. Nevermind. I'll get back to the story.

I was home from the hospital. I'd only been able to leave this couch to pee, (on my own, god damnit!), and the confinement had made me a bit bitchy. Dave had put up with it without a peep. He'd brought me the cocoa I'd asked for when I got home, and while it did have marshmallows, but they weren't pink. I decided to let that slide, because I couldn't really expect him to have pink marshmallows on hand. But later when he got home from the grocery store and admitted he'd forgotten to buy them, I threw a knife at him. Well, near him. Actually, too near him; it nicked his ear on the way past him before solidly sinking into the wall. He didn't gen get pissed. He just calmly asked for the rest of the knives. I felt so ashamed of nicking him that I actually gave him two of the five I'd stashed in the couch cushions. I guess I shouldn't have lost my temper over pink marshmallows, but, fuck it. A girl's got to have standards.

Actually, almost hitting him had scared me. I had just wanted to startle him and make sure he was still taking me seriously. Not accidentally kill him. Sure, I was back to 'being taken care of' but I wasn't going to go back to little girl status if I could help it. Maybe the throw was off because I was sitting on the couch, but it had just felt wrong when it left my hand. That bothered me. I'm better than that.

We had a quiet dinner and after he cleaned up, he asked if I wanted dessert before bed. Holy shit, it was like I was six years old again. I started to get mad, but decided that no, I would deal with this after dessert. I wanted some sugar. And, well, I couldn't exactly run away this time so a screaming match was out of the question. He brought out a couple of chocolate cupcakes he had bought from the bakery. I ate mine then stole the remaining half of his while he was getting me more milk. He didn't get mad. He didn't even tease me. He just sat back down across from me.

As much fun as ordering him around like a child had been, I couldn't keep it up. "Look, I'm sorry." I said.

"What, about taking my cupcake? I pretty much expected it."

"No, Dave. I'm not sorry about the cupcake." He looked a little puzzled, like maybe I should have been sorry about the cupcake. But, I still wasn't so I continued. "Seriously, I'm sorry for about the fight. I'm sorry I ran out the other night and I'm sorry about the knife."

"Don't worry about it," he replied. "We'll get you healed up and my ear is fine."

"If I was myself, I wouldn't have hit you. And I can't be a little girl anymore. I'll get me healed up. It's time for you to stop taking care of me."

"But Mindy, you need me!" he replied. "I mean, your head; the doctor said you needed someone to watch you."

"I know he did, Dave. But I did some thinking while you were out getting food. I messed up." He tried to interrupt me but I just continued over him. "When tore out of here the other night, I was angrier then I'd been in years. And all of it was focused on you. You were treating me like a baby, like a kid sister. Then when you came after me, in costume, I was so happy because you'd been a pussy and caved. You knew you were wrong; I had won. And it felt great. So fucking great that I wasn't paying attention to the world around me and you had to save my ass. And not from some mobster who knew way too much about kung fu like the first time, but from some punk ass bitch that I could have taken out when I was eight. When I came back to twon, I know that I just crawled in the window and started falling asleep on your lap. That's my fault. After Marcus abandoned me, I guess I wanted to be that little girl again. I wanted a new daddy. So, I basically asked you to be one. And you gave me what I asked for."

"I don't think of myself as your dad. That's nuts." Dave interrupted, "You just needed some help from your Robin again." He tried to get me to smile at him but it didn't work. "I mean, we're like family." The word 'family' trigged an emotional reaction in me that I wasn't expecting. Cold, mind numbing fear. Not butterflies like that bullshit failed date had caused. Pure terror. I couldn't have any more family.

I started to panic. I wasn't going back to being dependant. I started talking and the words were coming out faster than I could think of them. "Dave, I don't need a daddy anymore and I don't need a Robin. We're not family! We're not anything! Tomorrow I'm moving into the safe house." While Dave had pretty much humored me for most of what I said, these comments appeared to have cut deep. But it was working, so I pushed on. Dave tried to interrupt me but I wouldn't let him . "We're not family, get it? I can take care of myself!" I replied. A little voice in the back of my head questioned why I was doing this when I didn't want to be alone again, but I told it to fuck off. "And this time, we're not going to scream about it like a couple of bitches in heat. OK?"

"Fine" he sighed. I didn't get the weak smile I prayed for. He couldn't even meet my eyes. And fuck, I felt like I'd just beaten an old dog to death. This wasn't what I wanted. I mean, I didn't know what I wanted, but this definitely wasn't it. Not to cut us apart; Just to get my own space. I wanted him to visit me, train with me, and be with me. I just couldn't do that under his roof. I tried again. "Dave? I'll still need some help getting moved and stuff. And, you can visit and…" I stopped talking when he stood up and walked out of the room. "Whatever" his voice echoed back to me from the end of the hallway." But it had been a heartbroken 'whatever', which basically translated to 'fuck off'.

I could move around pretty good the next day although I kept having slight dizzy spells and I was klutzy as hell. I wasn't going to let that stop me. By the time I had packed my personal things, Dave had loaded up his car with the rest. We drove in silence; I did notice that even in our non-communicative state that he knew to drive around enough to make sure we weren't being followed before we got to the safe house. We got there and began hauling boxes upstairs. When I thought we had everything inside, Dave claimed that there was one more thing in the car and said that he would go get it. After about ten minutes, I went to the door to see what was taking so long. The last box was just sitting in the hallway. Dave was gone. I pulled it inside and sat down on it. Marcus had left. Now Dave had left. Hoping that something had just prevented him from coming back up, that maybe he was abducted or something, I tried his cell. It picked up but he didn't say anything. "Dave?" I said. Just a sigh, but I knew it was his sigh. I didn't yell. I didn't curse. "Why didn't you bring in the last box?" I asked, feeling very alone. "You made your choice." he said. And then he hung up. I cried until I fell asleep.

I'd fucked everything up, but maybe I was better this way. I was alone again, but at least I wasn't in some skeezy motel. Over the next couple of days I buried my pain in trying to get my edge back. Because something was really wrong with me. It was like being a sniper when someone had fucked with your sights. Knives and stars missed the entire target half the time. I'd fall over if I got too exotic on my sword or staff work. And guns… I could barely pick up a gun without thinking of the accident and everything it had caused. Even with a silencer, the bang made me close my eyes. Not good for working in the rather small shooting range Daddy had rigged in the safe house. So I decided that if I couldn't hit something with a knife, I had no business trying to hit it with a bullet anyway and put away the guns. It made a good excuse.

I tried to call Dave a few more times but he wasn't answering and I couldn't make myself leave a message. Because I didn't know what he was feeling or what I was feeling, and I just wanted to talk, so how the hell could I put that in a message? And the douche bag hadn't even personalized his voicemail message so I couldn't just call to hear his voice. Fine. Another person had abandoned me. Fuck him. Fuck 'em all.

I moped, watched TV, and bought a lot of shit on my iPad. I wanted to feel something other than loneliness so much I didn't know what to do. I was so damn lonely that I started watching those fucking Union J videos on repeat. That was… kind of fun. Surprisingly fun. One night, I even tried drinking. Daddy had left a few bottles of scotch in a cabinet and I figured, what the fuck, it's not like I'm driving. I actually fell asleep that night without any trouble and slept without any dreams. The next night, I tried it again. But I didn't feel sleepy right away and started watching those videos again. And I realized something. They turned me on. I mean, more than just little butterflies. I was drunk enough that it even led me to playing with myself for the first time. It felt amazing. I finally understood why guys liked to whack off. I finally drifted off and in the morning, I woke up with a hell of a hangover. OK. This was a shitty idea. I poured the rest of the scotch down the drain and promised myself I'd never drink like that again. But even without the alcohol to lower my inhibitions, damned if I didn't end up experimenting with myself a bit more when I went to bed. It was just about the only think in my life that felt good and I had finally accepted the fact that I was alone and I could do whatever I wanted. So far, it was the only good part of being alone that I had found, so I kind of focused on it.

At first my fantasies were just typical girly shit. It was biology, just like the three bitches had said, Channing Tatum and Union J. Not Twilight though, they were a bunch of pussies. Fucking sparkly vampires, and the main guy wanted to actually eat that Bella chick? Yuck. But, yeah, I decided that it was indeed biology. I mean, I wasn't turned on by girls, so it was definitely guys. At first the fantasies stayed pretty much on track, but then I thought of Dave. Dave doing pull-ups. Dave without a shirt. Dave's perfect ass that I'd glimpsed in the bathroom mirror one morning when I hadn't realized he was still getting ready. Flustered. I shoved him out of my mind and spent the rest of the evening throwing knives at Dave's picture. I was getting a little better at throwing, but I still sucked. And I didn't have a clue as to why.

The next time my fantasies turned to Dave, I gave in. Holy shit! It made things feel so much better. In fact, I even think I had an orgasm. I mean, I kept rubbing and kept thinking about him in the shower, about him kissing me, about how it felt when he was supporting my by my ass as he tried to unlock the door… And suddenly I started thrashing around out of control, every muscle clamped up as I felt waves of delight flow through me. I even got so caught up with it that I managed to fall off of the couch. If it wasn't an orgasm, then it was a seizure, but it was the best seizure anyone had ever had.

Not surprisingly, my phone picked that moment to ring. I froze for a moment like I'd been caught, then realized how silly that was and grabbed the phone. I didn't even look at the number; the only person who had this number who would call would be Dave.

"Dave?" I said, trying to control my breathing.

"Umm, no." Marcus' voice came through the phone. I almost dropped it. "Hi Min..I mean Hit… Umm, just hi." He said.

"What the FUCK?" I screamed into the phone. Then I thought about it for a minute and almost laughed. He was across the country and he still caught me masturbating. How the hell did he do that? The absurdity gave me the chance to calm down a bit. Marcus didn't respond. So I said evenly "I got your note."

"Look, umm, well…" He sputtered out.

"Have you changed your mind? Because I think that you were pretty fucking clear." I said, my anger coming back a bit.

"Not exactly." He replied.

Somehow his tone managed to catch my attention. I decided I wanted to hear the son of a bitch explain how he justified abandoning me. I also realized that if I stopped swearing, he might manage to talk. "Not exactly? What in the fu.. hell does that mean?"

"Look, just listen, please. I called for two reasons. The first is to explain myself. You deserve that."

"I'm listening" I managed to choke out past my shock.

"You made your choice. You're Hit Girl, and I can't change that. I'm not even sure it was a choice. I mean, you never stopped being her; you just suppressed that part of yourself for me. But you're a vigilante and I'm a cop. Do you understand what that means?" After a pause for me to speak, during which I just sat there dumbfounded, he went on. "If I stayed anywhere around you, I'd either be forced to track you down or they'd use me to find you. I can't accept what you do as being right, but I don't want to send you to prison either. This is the only time I'm ever going to call you, and when I'm done, I'm dropping this phone in the river. I expect you'll do the same with yours. That way we can't be tempted."

"OK" I said, with more calm than I felt. "I can accept your reasons. But that note still sucked."

"You deserved better, but I was unbelievably angry at the time. I have no idea how long you're going to live in this lifestyle you've chosen, but I don't want to be the reason it ends. I don't want to be the one who kills you. I just want to keep remembering holding you when you were little and how you looked when you came down the stairs ready for that first date." I could actually hear how much this hurt him. "That's easier then knowing you're in danger. Or dead."

"I understand. Or, I think I will someday. Thank you. You said there was a second reason?"

"Look, I was planning to do this on the actual day, but since I'll be stuck in a stakeout all of next week, I didn't want to risk missing it. Happy early birthday sweetie." He was obviously holding back tears now. "Your sweet sixteen birthday. I'd really been looking forward to it."

"Marcus…" I couldn't say anymore.

"I love you Hit G– No. I love you Mindy. Regardless of your choice you'll always be Mindy to me." His words healed. They filled a hole that I hadn't realized had been empty. He'd left because he had to. And I understood that.

He started to wrap up. "Happy Birthday, honey. Stay safe. Take care of yourself, and that boy. He's a keeper."

He's a what? "Wait, Marcus…."

"Goodbye Mindy. I love you." I heard the click as the call ended. I tried to call the number back immediately but it went straight to a generic voicemail message. His phone was either off or in the river.

I didn't cry this time. I'd wanted the chance to tell him I loved him too but I'm pretty sure he already knew. And I'd also wanted to ask him what I should do about Dave. But that was my problem to solve, not his. It was time to start solving shit instead of just being a victim. I grabbed a piece of paper and started two columns. 'What I want' and 'What I don't want'. Proud of my accomplishment, I spent the next half hour staring at the otherwise blank sheet of paper.

I eventually decided it was easier to start with what I didn't want.

Hmm. I started to write.

I don't want to be treated like a child.

I don't want someone to control me.

I don't want to get abandoned again.

I don't want to be alone.

I don't want to live like this anymore.

Then, I moved onto the other list.

I want someone to help me when I need help, and kick my ass when I need to do something myself.

I want a partner. An equal. A friend. Maybe even a boyfriend.

I want Dave.

I took a moment, pulled my head out of my ass, and started to think. Despite Marcus' harsh words in the letter, he had left because it was the only real option. That was a little different than being abandoned. And, well, Dave didn't abandon me. I left him. Sure, I told him he could visit, but not before making it clear I had no place for him in my life. And just like when I'd first moved in with him, he'd given me exactly what I asked for. First he took care of me. And then when I wanted to leave, he let me. Fucking hell Dave, you've got to stop being such a fucking carpet! I can't be expected to both know what I want AND what I need! I was only fifteen!

I was going to be sixteen in two days. My list was done. I knew what I wanted and needed. Dave, as a partner or a friend. Maybe as more, that was kind of up to him. But I didn't have to figure out that part right now. What I did need to do was start Operation Fixit!

The next morning, the first thing I did was to locate a decent beauty parlor. I told them that money was no object and that I was entirely in their hands. They stripped the cheap dye out of my hair and got it back to its original golden glow. This was really important because by this point, my blond roots had grown out about a half inch to each side. It looked terrible; in fact, I looked a lot like a peed on skunk. They asked about color so I had them put in a few purple streaks. That made me feel sexy and somehow grown up. Then they sent me to the waxers. Holy fucking shit that hurt. They finished on my legs, and then delicately suggested that they could go farther. I resisted smacking them for even suggesting that. I mean, my legs hurt, but having hair pulled from there? How could any woman stand that? And it made you look like a damn baby. How was that supposed to be sexy? I recovered from the leg pain while getting a manicure and pedicure. Might as well go as girly as possible.

Then I had to find a dress. Well, not a dress, the dress. That took seven stores before I found one that was still me, but sexy enough to knock Dave into next week. Plenty of cleavage to make him drool, but my tits were still covered. I was going to look like a woman in this, not like a hooker. I bought a push up bra to help the cleavage situation. I mean, I had some curves but I certainly didn't match up the kind of huge boobs they draw in comic books. I was just going to get a plain one, but the sales lady aid it was a crime to wear cotton under a dress like that. She suggested a sexy bra and panty combo with a lot of lace and not a lot of cloth. When I looked at her in shock, she said that even if I didn't let the young man in question see the undies, I'd feel sexier and more confidant with them on. Who was I to argue? Especially since they had in purple. Two pairs of shoes, one heels, one flat so I had options and I was done there.

I swung through the party store and bought some decorations. Everything that said Sweet Sixteen went in my basket. Purple and pink streamers went in too. I bought the works. Then I ordered a cake and went home. I decorated the whole place. I even put bows on the guns. Then, that evening, I called Dave. He didn't answer, but I left him a message this time. I apologized for what I had said, and reminded him of his promise from the beginning of the year. He said 'he would do anything' I reminded him. I asked him if he was enough of a man to hold to his word. Finally, I told him to come to the safe house tomorrow night. OK, actually, this took about 7 messages. It took a while for me to explain it all. I can't believe he just sat there and let it ring.

I woke up bright and early the next morning and decided that even though I was only one day older then yesterday, I did indeed feel different. Maybe I'd just bought into the hype, or maybe it was because the safe house looked like the party store had exploded in it. I left a note on the door when I had to run out to get the cake and dinner fixings just in case Dave arrived early telling him to please wait for me to get back. Then, I got dressed. The sales lady was right. Putting on that underwear did make me feel like a woman. I made a note to buy some more. I liked how I looked in the heels, but I had another dizzy spell and decided that even though the heels made my ass look great, it would stop looking great if I fell on it. Bruises aren't that sexy. So, I put on the flats instead. I got the dinner prepped so I could just pull things out with a minimum of fuss. And then I sat down to wait.

After about an hour, I wasn't sitting, I was pacing. Two hours later I was trying to decide if I'd rip my dress if I started throwing knives. After the next hour, I was starting to realize that I had been a complete idiot to put this together. But on the plus side, I could actually throw knives in my dress safely. The next thirty minutes proved my knife throwing was getting a little better as I slaughtered every balloon in the room. Finally, I gave up all of my dignity and begged. I grabbed my phone and texted Dave. "Please don't make me spend my 16th birthday alone." I hit send and a moment later, I heard a text alert go off in the hallway. Confused, I opened the door and there was Dave, sitting on the floor, staring at his phone.


	5. Chapter 5

I stared at Dave, who was staring at his phone. After a moment he looked up. "Happy Birthday?" He said tentatively.

"What in the fuck are you doing on the floor?!" I asked. He pointed at the sign that was still hanging on the door. It said for him to wait for me, and I'd put it up when I had run a few errands earlier in the day. Unfortunately, I hadn't taken it down. "SHIT!" I grabbed it and crumpled it into a ball. "That was in case you were early!" He smiled at me and then tried to peer around me into the room. "Close your eyes!" I said quickly. He did. "Look, I'm just going to shut the door and you can knock on it in a minute – OK?"

"With my eyes open?" he asked?

"Yes with your eyes open, dumbass." I said. He started to chuckle. "Shut up! I worked hard on this!" Another chuckle erupted from him. "Just wait until I get inside, OK?" I didn't wait for a nod and darted back inside and shut the door. Actual laughter came from the hallway now. "I said shut up!" I shouted through the door, but I was trying not to laugh too. I looked around the room. Everything was perfect. Well, everything except for the dead balloons and the phenomenal number of holes in the sheet rock that I'd need to spackle over later. He knocked on the door and after smoothing down my dress and trying to dry my suddenly clammy palms at the same time, I answered the door.

"Happy Birthday!" we both shouted together. Then we lost it completely. He managed to make it inside and get the door closed. Then we both laughed until our sides ached.

"OK, so that didn't go exactly as planned." I said, wiping my eyes. "Welcome to my surprise Sweet 16 party."

"How do you throw yourself a surprise party?" He asked.

"I don't know. Pretty badly, obviously." I remarked, finally catching my breath. "How long were you waiting out there?"

"About an hour and a half." He replied, sitting down at the table. "You reminded me of my promise, and questioned my manhood. There was no way I was leaving. There were some popping noises a while ago, and I tried knocking, but I guess you didn't hear me. So is it really your birthday or is this just you fucking with me?"

"It's really my birthday. And I swear, the balloons were asking for it. Look, I was a bitch, OK? I said some really hurtful things and basically I abandoned you the way that Marcus abandoned me. "

"Min, you don't have to" Dave tried to say, but I stopped him.

"Dave, I do. And I've had a shitty few months, so please hear me out all the way before you make any judgments. I'm going to say some of this shit wrong and I need the chance to fix it when you're a dumbass and don't understand me." He smiled at that. "Please listen to the end; I don't want us to get pissed off at each other again. You're not my Daddy or Marcus. And that's not an insult to you, it's just true. It's my fault that I put you in that position, but it isn't who I want you to be. Is that OK?"

"Yeah, sure"he said. I could see some of the pain from our last conversation taking over the joy that the 'surprise' had created.

I went on. "Now, I also don't want to be alone. I want you around but I don't want you to be my Robin, or me be your Robin, OK?"

"I'm not sure I understand. You don't want us to go out on patrol? You don't want us to be partners?" He said, and I knew he was trying hard not to say the wrong thing.

"Actually, you've kind of got that backwards. "

He interrupted me. "But Batman and Robin were partners!"

"No," I replied, "Batman was in charge and Robin was his little bitch. I don't want that. I want to be actual partners. And friends."

"That's all I've ever wanted." Dave said, starting to smile a bit.

"You're not supposed to be interrupting! Look, if you're full of shit, I get to tell you. And if I'm full of shit, you get to tell me. Fair?" He didn't respond. "Shit! OK – you can talk."

"Yeah, that sounds good." He smiled more

"Don't forget I can still kick the shit out of you if you piss me off though." I said, not wanting to go too far.

"I'd expected that. What else?"

"Well, you're not family. But, well, you've heard that dipshit saying that friends are the family you choose? Well, I guess maybe its not so dipshit. It's just that for me, family is the wrong word. But that doesn't mean I don't care about you a lot."

"Yeah, I can see the difference. Your experience with family has been a little fucked up."

"Ya think?" I sarcastically shot back. "So, any questions?"

"We're equal, we're friends, but you reserve the right to kick my ass. Oh, and today is your sixteenth birthday. That about sum it up?"

"Yes, that's it." I said, hoping he wasn't going to have a problem with it.

"Well, then, Happy Birthday and let's party!"

I pulled out the food and he helped me get everything set up. Then we ate, caught back up on what was going on in our live and put on some music. My iPad was on random, and when the first slow song started, he asked me to dance. I froze. I hadn't I even considered this option. Thank God I hadn't worn the heels. I tried to refuse, but he just pulled me to my feet. Then he swung me over to the practice mats to dance. It was the only open space. As we danced, I even caught him checking out my cleavage. It gave me that butterfly feeling.

"I haven't said it yet because everything tonight kind of happened out of order. You look beautiful. "I blushed and pushed my face into his shoulder.

"You don't have to say that, you know." I muttered into the fabric.

"Yes I do. I'm a hero, and I have to tell the truth. You're beautiful tonight and every night." With that, he spun me around and the heady sensation reminded me of how I'd felt when I was just a little bit drunk. As soon as I could, I hid back in his shoulder again. We continued to dance and he moved us next to the iPad. The song ended and he reached out a hand to hit fast forward until another slow song started. Then we were dancing again. "Sweet Sixteen." He whispered. "Sweet Sixteen and never been…" He looked down at my eyes to see if I would fill in the blank.

"Never been anything." I said softly.

"You've been kissed. Hell, at least once. I mean, you said that it was your first kiss when you left town." He said, confused.

"Dave, I kissed you. No one has ever kissed me." I tried not to put hope or sadness in my voice. I think I managed both.

"Then someone should. Or, rather, I should." And with that, he gently lifted my chin and kissed me.


	6. Chapter 6

He kissed me! He kissed me! He kissed me! I just chanted in my mind at first. The kiss deepened and his tongue tickled my lips. I think my heart rate doubled. I pushed myself against him and opened my lips up to his probing tongue. It felt amazing. I could feel my nipples crinkle up as the kiss continued and the rest of me was feeling flush. His hands flowed up and down me, eventually grabbing my ass and pulling it toward him, hard. He broke off the kiss then and pulled me into his chest. The intimacy of that touch felt amazing. I felt like I was his, but not in the bad way that being taken care of had been. And he was mine. The music tried to change to something peppy again and he broke away from me to turn it off. Then he guided me to the couch and we sat down together. When he didn't immediately start kissing me again, I pushed back a little so I could see him better.

"Sorry, I shouldn't have done that. "He said. Huh? Some parts of me were singing with joy and the rest were wandering around in a witless confusion.

"Why not?" I asked, scared. "I wanted it and I liked it. We could do it some more if you want?"

"I do, but, we should talk some first," Dave said. More confusion poured through my mind. More kissing was good, but if every movie I'd seen was any indication, talking at this point was bad. "I don't want to take advantage of you."

I immediately felt better. If that was all that worried him, we were fine. "Look Dave, it's impossible for you to take advantage of me. Even in this dress, I could kill you with your own finger. Nothing will happen that I don't want to happen." I blushed. "And, I, umm, want things to happen." With that, I reached behind my back and started to pull the zipper on my dress down while I moved forward to kiss him again.

"Whoa, wait, what do you think you're doing?" Dave pulled himself to the end of the couch farthest from me. I stopped pulling, but the dress had already slipped down enough that my bra was completely uncovered. Like I said when I bought it, it had lots of lace and not much fabric. I felt more exposed than if I had actually been topless. But, I was also stung by his reaction, and almost pulled my dress back up. But instead, pride forced me to let if fall farther, exposing part of my stomach.

"I'm not a little kid anymore, Dave. The evidence is right here." I gestured at my chest. "Come touch if you don't believe your eyes."

"Mindy, please put your dress back on," he gasped.

Tears misted my eyes but I held them back. Defiantly I left the dress where it was. "What's wrong Dave? They're just tits. Am I not enough for you? Is it because I'm not some perfect girl next door like Katie or some slutbag like Night Bitch?"

"I don't want you to be like them, Mindy. I want you to be yourself!" He was practically shouting.

"I pointed at my body again. This is me Dave. I don't know what you still see me as, but this is it. I'm not a kid. I'm sixteen now. And I want you. Please make love to me…" The vulnerability in my last statement made my voice quiver. It was also starting to disgust me that I was begging him. "I got my hair done, a sexy dress and $100 underwear. Manicured, pedicured, and waxed. Even makeup, for fuck's sake!" I had a sudden thought about what the problem could be "Oh, and I'm on the pill to control my cycle and I have condoms too, if that's what is worrying you." Apparently that wasn't it. He still didn't look at me the way I wanted him too. I looked down and noticed my feet. The boring flats I'd worn stared back at me. "I have heels that go with this outfit too? Would that fucking help?" I said, exasperated.

"No, Mindy, it wouldn't." He gasped out.

"Then what does it take? I'm not begging anymore than I already have. If I don't turn you on, fine. If you don't want to fuck me, say it! Just spit it out and I'll leave you alone. But otherwise that kiss was amazing and I want more!"

"Mindy, please shut up," he barked at me. I stared in surprise. "Look, I'm trying to figure out how to say this without hurting you."

"Dave, you've already hurt me. Fine. You don't want to fuck me. Message received. Just say what you need to say so I can throw your ass out of here and go find some ice cream!" I started to clutch the dress back up to my chest.

"Hey, we made an agreement a little while ago to call each other on their bullshit. Well, I'm calling you on yours! Now shut up and listen." I was so shocked that he was using that conversation against me this quickly that I just nodded for him to continue. "No interrupting. This will take all night if you interrupt. First of all, you look absolutely amazingly sexy in that dress, and in that bra, and my dick is hard enough to chisel marble right now."

"What?" I said. I was prepared for a 'we're just friends' speech, but I didn't think those speeches usually involved boners.

"Please let me talk." Dave continued. "I also agree that the kiss was amazing and that I want to kiss you some more. Hell, a lot more!" I tried to speak again, but the fierce look from Dave shut me down before I could get out the first word. He wanted to kiss me again? But that's what I'd tried to do and he'd stopped me. He seemed to be following my thought patterns. "If you let me, I will kiss you again. We just need to talk about what we're doing. Before something goes too far and it all explodes. You just turned sixteen today" I nodded. "And that was your first time being kissed." I nodded again. I was starting to feel like a bobblehead. "And you thought that after kissing, we'd just jump straight to sex." More bobblehead. "Well, I don't want to do that."

I couldn't stay silent any longer. "But that's what you did with Katie and Night Bitch!"

"Yeah, and do you see either of them around any longer?" He pressed.

"Well, no. I guess not. Look, cut to the chase. What the fuck is your point?" I yelled.

"The point is that I didn't fucking love them!" He shouted back.

Neither one of us moved or made noise for a full five minutes. Seriously, the microwave clock was across the room from me and the minute section incremented five fucking times.

Finally, he broke the silence. "I didn't plan to scream it at you, but yes, I love you. And not just as a friend. And I desire you. Oh my god do I desire you! So much that it hurts right now." He shifted a bit and I think it was because his cock was wedged the wrong way in his jeans.

I still didn't move. He loved me? Holy Shit. I hadn't thought that I could get more confused, but I was mistaken. "Dave? I've given up guessing. I don't have the slightest clue what you're trying to say."

He smiled at that, and I relaxed a bit. "Mindy, you've barely been kissed and I've done, well, a lot. I don't want to skip right to sex with you. I want to spend time developing a relationship with you. I want to enjoy crossing every wonderful thing we can do together off the list before we get to sex. And then I want to go back and repeat them. Because you're worth it and you deserve it. And I want those experiences too, because I skipped past most of them the first few times. I want to spend this entire evening making out with you and I want to go home aching for more. Because just like after a good workout, that ache hurts so good."

"But Dave, I want you! I mean, like, inside me!" I wailed.

"And you'll get me, eventually. Think about it as delicious torture." He teased.

I sat and thought about it. I thought about it a lot. And I liked it. I reached behind me and zipped back up. He groaned. I looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

"That was an amazing view to give up." Dave admitted. I bent forward so he could at least look down my dress. He looked. "Come here" he said. I crawled across the couch, gave him a brief kiss, then sat down on his lap and wrapped his arms around me. I put one of his hands very close to my boob. "Naughty girl," he cooed into my ear and teased the bottom of my breast. Just the bottom, he didn't move his hand up to cover me. I melted into his arms anyway and noticed something solid and insistent prodding me from below. In fact, that hard on poking into my butt convinced me better than his entire argument had that he really was turned on by me. I think my entire body smiled.

"If you liked the bra, you'll love the panties." I whispered.

"I'm sure I will. But not yet." He nuzzled into my neck, covering it with little kisses. "So what was that you said before? You got waxed?" he asked.

"Oh yes," I said and put his other hand on my thigh. "Feel soft?" He drew slow soft circles with his fingertips that drove me wild.

"How far?" he asked.

"Why don't you find out?" I teased. He groaned again and I decided to be merciful. "Just my legs. As for the rest… First, Ow. Second, well, I wanted to turn you on, but I didn't want to look like a baby down there."

He squeezed me and little Dave gave a tiny pulse as well. "No arguments from me. I think that hairless thing is insane." He released his hold enough on me so I could turn around. I looked into his eyes, and then closed mine as we began to kiss slowly and gently. One of his hands started to slide down my back.

"Not too fast, mister." I smiled into his lips. "We've got all the time in the world." Then… after a few more minutes…. "Well, we don't have to be glacial about this..." I reached back and slid his hand the rest of the way down to my butt. And we sat there together and kissed the rest of the night away.


	7. Chapter 7

OK, we didn't kiss all night. I wanted to, but after a couple of hours, we started to get tired. So, we stopped and just snuggled for a bit. Dave caught himself nearly falling asleep one too many times and admitted that it was time for him to go home. I tried to convince him to stay, telling him first we'd just cuddle in my bed. He just looked at me with an amused look that pretty much translated to 'bullshit'. Then I claimed that we'd just cuddle on the coach. More 'bullshit' stare. Finally I said that I'd sleep in my bed and that he would sleep on the couch. Neither one of us believed me and the stare finally won. I knew that I'd climb on top of him if this went any farther. So I let him leave but not without a big goodnight kiss and a promise that we'd meet up tomorrow. He squeezed my ass with that last kiss and I think I purred.

After he left, I aimlessly picked up a bit, then got ready for bed. I was afraid of the loneliness feelings overwhelming me again, but they didn't. I missed him terribly. Now that I'd gotten to kiss him, be held by him, it was an agony to be apart. But I knew that tomorrow he would come back. Dave was going to take me on an actual date. Well, kind of taking me, because I'd be paying. I had plenty of money and he really was just scraping by. I didn't exactly earn that money; I just took it away from bad people who didn't need it anymore. You know, because they were dead. So I didn't care about who was paying for dinner. It was my first date and I was ecstatic.

The date ditch did not fucking count, got it? Good. I don't want to have to explain that again.

I had a severe dizzy spell right before I got into bed. But I just thought about how late it was and everything that had happened and figured it wasn't too surprising. I climbed under my covers and then lay there and reflected. The day after day drudgery of being alone was over. I had my Dave. It let me relax enough for sleep. Well, that and a wee bit of diddling myself.

I woke up the next morning feeling great. I was sixteen and I had a boyfriend! As far as I was concerned, I had just won at life. I danced through my morning workout. Only got dizzy three times, which was good for me lately. Part of me again started to think that maybe I should be worrying about that continued dizziness, but the rest just shouted 'BOYFRIEND' and drowned out the worried part.

I called a cab and went to the mall. Yes, a cab. In fact, if you were wondering how in the fuck I got the decorations and cake and shit home for the party, I kept taking cabs. There was no way to do that sort of thing on a bike. I may have to invest in a car. Cabs were getting expensive though. Maybe I just needed to make Dave drive me around more.

I went out to the mall and went absolutely fucking nuts buying myself a new wardrobe. Regular clothes, not workout stuff. Although I did spend a while seeing if anyone had those transparent yoga pants still in stock. Those might be fun to wear when I worked out with Dave. No one did, apparently they'd been recalled. Shit. I also got lots of frilly stuff, especially in the underwear section. I went to a register with a male cashier just for the fuck of it, and just stared coyly into his eyes while little sixteen year old me bought a big pile of naughty under things. The nearly transparent thongs got the best reaction, especially since I decided to dig though them to 'verify' they were all the right size. I even held one up to my hips like I was trying to decide how it would fit. He looked like he was trying to swallow a fish.

I didn't just buy that stuff for Dave to see me in, although it was the inspiration. I bought them for me. Daddy had dressed me pretty plain when I was little. Neither of us thought any of that mattered because the costume was where I got to feel special. Then for Marcus, I had dressed like the goody two shoes choir girl priss. That was what had made Marcus happy. I mean, I wore a sweater buttoned at my throat on my first date for fuck's sake.

It was a trick! Not a real fucking date! Got it? We're not going to make that decision again, are we!? No!? Good.

I bought things I liked. Yes, I did have a girly streak. Why else was my hero costume purple and pink with a skirt? But I hadn't really thought about being 'pretty' until the whole Brook fiasco. That did help me figure out that I liked looking good. I couldn't wear sweats and jumpers for the rest of my life. Even if these clothes were just another costume, it was a matter of pride to me that my costumes always looked good. More makeup and shoes completed the trip.

I got the stuff outside and called a cab. While I waited, I texted Dave shots inside some of the bags. Not so much that he could recognize specific items, but enough to torture him knowing I owned such things. I didn't want to ruin the actual 'reveals.' He texted back things like 'drool' and 'groan' so I figured it was working. I got home, made some lunch, and went through my purchases like a kid on Christmas morning. I happily spent the afternoon trying on outfits, removing the six thousand tags, and trying on the underwear that I couldn't at the store. I decided the jury was still out on the thongs. Sure, I looked good in them. And the whole no panty line thing was cool. But they still felt like I had a perma-wedgie. I decided that I'd wear them for the next few days and see if I could get used to the feeling. Finally, it was getting on toward five so I got dressed for my first date.

Shut up.

Dave arrived promptly at six, dressed nicely, with flowers and a wrapped box. He was appropriately appreciative of my outfit, which was to say that he couldn't speak for about thirty seconds. This was getting fun! "Hi Dave!" I said. "Pussy got your tongue?" He glanced below my waist and then back up to my eyes.

"Umm, the phrase is 'Cat got your tongue.'" He stammered.

"I know what the phrase is." I sparkled back. "What's in the box?"

"A surprise. You'll find out later."

I winked at him. "Maybe later you'll find out what's in another box." He blushed and I decided to egg things on a bit more. "Shall we go or do you want to come inside and unwrap me?"

"I hope you're not too upset if I said we should go?" He said carefully.

"I'm just fucking with you, Dave. Hmm, maybe I need to change that phrase. But 'just not fucking with you' doesn't have the same zing. Oh well. I'll put the flowers in some water and then we can go. I'm starving."

He grinned at the rescue and soon we were walking out of the building, hand in hand. That felt really nice. Even nicer when I stumbled over a rock that I'm not actually sure was there. But he caught me. We got into his car and headed over to a nice Italian place he remembered his dad talking about. We ordered dinner and tried to order wine, but we got carded. Dave of course was only 19 and while I was 16, I'd had 18 put on my fake ID. Both because people tend to look at 21 year old ID's carefully for fakes and because I knew I couldn't pull it off. The waiter was a nice guy about it and just teased us and then brought us non-alcoholic daiquiris. After he left, Dave decided to tease me by taking a sip and saying what a delicious virgin it was. I was drinking at that moment and almost spit strawberries at him.

We ate and talked. It was wonderful because he was one the only people who accepted me as Hit Girl. Sure, he referred to me as Mindy, because, hey, it's kind of weird to say 'Hit Girl, can you pass the pepper', especially in public. But our topics of conversation established that he had no problem with who I was. He asked me to explain the whole killing someone with their own finger thing, and I did, gesturing with my fork. Then he asked me about how I had enjoyed my shopping and proceeded to compliment me so much that I had to giggle. I didn't have to hide anything with him, and I hadn't truly enjoyed that experience since Daddy died.

We went over the rest of what was going on, both in the city and for Dave personally. The city had stayed pretty calm after the last battle. Most of the rambunctious criminals had signed on with the Motherfucker and either gotten killed, mangled, or arrested. Crime was at an all time low, but we both agreed that once those who survived healed or got out on parole, the problems would come back. Not to mention all the little crooks who would eventually realize that there was a void to fill and decide to step up their activities. Dave only had a few months left until he graduated. We talked about school for me, and while I couldn't ever go back to high school, I could at least get my GED. Under what name I wasn't sure, but it was more to prove to myself that I wasn't some idiot. We also went over a training schedule to get ourselves back in tip top shape. We could be prepared at least.

Over dessert, I gave in and asked about the box again. He smiled and said he was amazed at my self control but that we should wait a little bit longer to before I opened the gift. I kicked him under the table and he then acknowledged that I'd waited long enough. As I'd been hoping, it was a birthday present for me. He told me "I'd have had something for you yesterday, but you didn't tell me it was your birthday until a few moments before you opened the door. You've got to give a guy some time to shop." I agreed, and while I was at it, got him to tell me when his birthday was too. It was July 12th. I punched it into my phone so I wouldn't forget. I slit the paper open with a small knife I took out of my purse.

Oh – you didn't think I'd gone out unarmed, did you? That would have been insane. Throwing knives were in my purse and a larger fighting knife was strapped on the inside of my thigh where I hoped it wouldn't show. The dress was a little short, but the sheath was black, my hose was black, and I'd smack anyone who seemed to be staring up my dress. It worked.

After the obligatory 'I couldn't afford much' speech from Dave and the 'I know that dumbass, I'm paying for dinner – and I don't mind' speech from me, I opened the box. Nestled in some cotton batting was a clock. An old, beat up wooden clock. What the fuck? I mean, I knew he was broke but seriously? I looked up at him and tried to look happy. I really tried but it didn't work. "Umm, Dave… Thanks. Look, if you're that short on money, I could…."

He laughed and didn't seem upset though. "Actually, it wasn't cheap. It's an antique. And it's just like one of the clocks on the set of the old Batman show. I saw it in a shop a while ago. I figured since your Daddy couldn't be here, something that would remind you of him was in order." he said. Daddy had watched that show religiously, and now that Dave had mentioned there being a clock, I recognized it immediately.

"Oh my god, thank you! I just didn't realize…" It wasn't just a gift; it acknowledged all that I was.

"Check out the engraving." He said. I moved the batting around a bit and sure enough, there was a brass plate at the base. It said 'Time is the most precious thing in the world. You'll always be worth every moment I get to spend with you'. I squealed, jumped up, and wrapped my arms around him. I even had the beginnings of tears running down my face. Half the restaurant noticed at that point and thought he proposed. Two tables tried to buy us champagne. The owner tried to explain that we weren't old enough and he couldn't afford to lose his liquor license and we let him off the hook by telling them it was just my birthday. Well, one day past my birthday technically, but that would have been too tough to explain. We thanked them anyway, took care of the check, and walked outside. I held my gift protectively in one arm and Dave possessively in the other.

It was raining, so we rushed to the car and got in as quick as we could. I smiled because I knew no night could be perfect, and the rain had managed to be the one non-perfect thing. We went back to my place, where I carefully put the clock on a shelf where it would be safe. Then, we put on a movie (Enter the Dragon) and while we made out some, we also spent a lot of time holding each other. I had a little bit of a headache, but I ignored it.

When the movie was over, Dave squeezed me and then moved back so he could see me. "So how was that for a proper first date?" He asked.

"Wonderful!" I said. "Although I suppose if it was a conventional first date, I'd have just given you one kiss at the door."

"You know, if I'd gone along with your plan last night, the most we would have managed to do is to order a pizza and then just screw our brains out. Fun maybe, but not so fulfilling." He said.

I gave him my best confused look. "I thought we were doing that too. The pizza will be here in 15 minutes. We'd better get started or the pizza guy will see us fucking!" Then I cracked. "OK, you're right. Taking our time is better. I don't want to go too slow, but, well, thank you for thinking of both of us instead of just thinking with your dick."

He snorted at the last big and then gave me a hug, and caressed my ass a bit, then ran his arms up my sides to my neck, teasing the sides of my breasts just a little bit. "OK – tomorrow's Saturday. You said 7 AM earlier for our workout, but it's already 1 AM. Can we push it back a little bit?"

I was actually tempted to move it a lot. My head was really starting to pound. But no, I'd be fine once I got a bit of sleep. "All right, since you've been so nice to me. But you'll have to do an extra 50 pushups while I get to sit and watch the muscles in your arms. "

"Deal?" he said.

"Deal" I replied. "7:15 it is!"

"I guess I fell for that." He said, chuckling.

"And I guess I fell for you. I didn't say it last night because I figured you already knew. I love you too." I cooed into his ear as I wrapped my arms around him for our final good night kiss."I'm going to run you ragged tomorrow." He left and I crawled into bed. But the pain in my head wouldn't let me sleep. I tossed and turned, tried the regular headache drugs; nothing helped. Eventually, my exhaustion caught up with me, and even though I could barely think, I slept.


	8. Chapter 8

Dave came in the next morning to find me working the speed bag. Not that I could quite get the rhythm of it right, but it was still a good workout. That headache had finally gone away and I'd gotten a little bit of proper sleep. I looked at him and smiled. "My morning treat has arrived." I sat down on the mat pointed in front of me. "Drop and give me 50. Oh, and, shirt off."

"50?" Dave said as he pulled off his shirt.

"Yes, 50. I changed my mind. Now!" He dropped and did the required exercise. I just sat there and watched his muscles move. It was a lot of fun. Then he tried to crawl over to kiss me. I whacked him on the head. "Bad puppy! Work now, play later." He pretended to pout and then we climbed back to our feet.

We spent about half an hour stretching. I was still disappointed that I hadn't been able to buy those see through yoga pants but the short shorts and sports bra I was wearing seemed to have enough of an effect on Dave. I got to smack him four more times when he stopped stretching to stare at my ass. Well, actually, each time I gave him a pretty good look before I smacked him. We spent the next two hours on conditioning exercises. Dave kept up with me step for step. I guess he had hadn't gone soft. As soon as that thought went through my head, I glanced at his crotch. He really hadn't gone soft. He was going to need to pick up a jockstrap. Or maybe we'd have to play first and then work out. It couldn't be comfortable. The son of a bitch caught me looking and tried to smack me like I had smacked him. I easily caught his hand and flipped him into a pile of equipment.

Fuck. That wasn't where I'd meant him to land. Why was I still so off? But, he was laughing about it as he got up so I let it go. "Nice Try. That's my trick." I said to cover my discomfort.

"I should have known it wouldn't work" he said ruefully. Then he climbed up and started putting on pads.

We moved on to actual fighting practice and it was just like our workouts at the beginning of the school year. We dropped the sexy stuff and just got serious. The only difference was that now Dave was taking turns with the padded gloves and calling out kicks and punches for me to complete. I completed them all but it shouldn't have been such a struggle. It helped that Dave wasn't calling out as fast as I could actually move. Or, I guess, used to be able to move. He didn't know that and I decided not to point it out because I didn't want to look weak in front of him. We stopped when I put my head between my legs to fight off a dizzy spell. Dave just thought I was tired. As if!

Why did this dizzy shit not tip me off?

I was happy with the workout though. He'd apparently been paying attention to me when we worked out before and had shouted out those commands like a drill instructor. I hadn't had that since Daddy died and I realized that I'd missed it. It's very different following someone else's attack patterns then your own. I peeled off the equipment and tossed him a power bar and a Gatorade. We sat down to catch our breath and recharge.

"I want to go out on patrol. Tonight if you're up to it. I'm feeling rusty and there is nothing like real combat to sharpen you up." I said once I unstuck my teeth from the bar. Dave had bought the peanut butter ones and those were always a bitch to chew.

"Sounds good. We'll have to stick to the alleys and such though. The cops are still pretty pissed from the big fight with The Motherfucker." He said rather matter of fact.

"What, you're not going to refuse or try to talk me out of it or tell me I'm a fucking idiot?" I said, surprised.

"Did you want me to?" he replied.

"Well, no…"

He continued. "You said you wanted me to treat you as a partner for this stuff. So, I am. You are completely recovered from the wound in your head and you're right. It's time to get back out there before the real criminals get going."

I was glad he was agreeing with me, but words 'completely recovered' pricked at the back of my mind. I shoved it back down. I was Hit Girl. I could deal with it.

Yeah, I know. Shut up.

"So, we have now worked. Is it time for play?" He asked.

"I never play." I shot back in my most serious voice. I got a wonderful confused expression on his face. "Just 'not fucking with you, Dave.' " I guess that phrase did work. I sniffed and realized we both smelled like sweat. "We need a shower."

"Did you want to go first, or should I…" Dave started to say.

I interrupted. "Hey, fucktard. I said 'We.' You need to start listening more carefully." I walked away from him toward the bathroom, pulling off my sports bra and tossing it into a corner. "Unless you don't want to join me…." I started to run but somehow he still managed to catch me on the way in. We stripped each other greedily. When I pulled his shorts down, and actually saw him hard, my mouth went dry. I mean, he wasn't huge, just normal I think, but I still wasn't sure how something like that was going to fit inside me. I mean, when the time came. I was kind of glad I wasn't going to find out yet. We got the water going and climbed in. Kissing quickly moved to touching. I got to explore a naked man's body for the first time and Dave explored me as if he'd never touched a girl before. He spent plenty of time soaping certain parts of me though. And I could tell from his eyes that he wasn't just excited because he was touching some girl. It was because he was touching me. That made my insides go all twisty just like my dizzy spells but I didn't actually get dizzy. There were no orgasms; we just enjoyed teasing each other. Plus, we ran out of hot water all at once. After a brief yell from both of us, we rinsed off the remaining soap as fast as we could and jumped out to dry off. They were right; a cold shower does get you out of the mood.

We had lunch and spent the afternoon in weapons practice. I stayed away from anything that might show Dave that I was still shaky. And I still didn't even want to touch a gun. Once it got close to evening, we packed up duffel bags with our stuff. Dave noticed I hadn't grabbed a pistol and I claimed I wasn't in the mood for it tonight. He seemed to accept that. We then headed out to eat a light dinner and patrol. Never patrol on a full stomach, my Daddy had taught me. It makes you sleepy.

We found an out of the way alley to change in. Dave changed first, and was amused when I just stood there and watched him. He had to take off a lot to get into that wetsuit as the idiot had forgotten to wear it under his clothes. Then he gestured at me. I changed too, and showed off a lot more skin then I usually would have. Not only was it a rush to know Dave was looking at me, it was rather exciting feeling the air on my skin. Maybe this summer I'd jump him naked on a rooftop.

We stayed out of sight and looked for scumbags. It wasn't too long before we found a few. We left them where the police would find them after giving them a good beating. We were staying away from killing, which would get the police too riled up. It wasn't really enough to get my blood flowing but I definitely felt better knowing that I was making a difference again. So far, I hadn't had any problems with dizziness or such so I was in a really good mood. I decided that I'd just needed to get back to real work for everything to settle down.

When we were tired of walking, we sat on a rooftop and made out. After that shower, Dave had no problems running his hands all over me, but honestly, with the body armor in place, I didn't feel much of it. After one attempt by him to slip his hand inside my costume, I explained that it was too cold and I wasn't unzipping. He coyly claimed he'd warm me up, so I quickly pulled down the zipper on the back of his suit and placed my freezing hand square on his back. He yelped. As he shivered and tried to reach behind himself to pull the zipper back up, I told him that if he thought he was doing that to my boob, he was a fucking idiot. He quickly agreed that yes, it was too cold. The kissing was still good though and we explored that for a while before realizing it was almost dawn and stumbled back to the safe house.

Both of us were exhausted. The lack of sleep from last night was really catching up with us. I went into the bathroom and changed into one of my sleep shirts and some fuzzy socks. I brushed my teeth and walked out to see Dave gathering his things to leave.

"Where do you think you're going?" I asked.

"Home," he said. "I need sleep."

"Come on, sleep here with me." I said.

"What?" He said. It seemed to be his go to phrase when he was confused.

"I want you to stay with me tonight." I said, now getting stern.

"Look, Mindy. I think I should go home, all right?" he stammered.

"And I think you should stay. " I countered.

He groped for words. "Min, we said we weren't going to do this yet. And even if we were, we're way too tired to enjoy it properly."

"You think I want sex right now?" I said, incredulously. I looked up and down at what I was wearing. "And that this is how I would dress?"

"Well, we'd end up naked pretty quick, so it doesn't really matter what you wear." He replied.

I knocked him over, grabbed him by the collar and dragged him into the bathroom. Before he could do anything, I grabbed a couple of q-tips and shoved them at him.

He struggled up. "What the hell, Mindy?"

"I decided that either your ears must be plugged or you weren't listening to me. If you recall, not listening involves me kicking your ass. I'm too tired right now. So, I gave you the benefit of the doubt and assumed it was an ear problem. Do we agree that your ears were plugged up?" He nodded. "I asked you to SLEEP with me. NOT FUCK ME. Got it?"

"Oh." He said.

I kissed his confused face and left the bathroom to crawl into bed. I heard teeth brushing noises. I'd already bought him his own toothbrush for the safe house; sharing is gross. And then he came out. I indicated he should join me with a lazy wave of my arm. After a minute of standing there stupidly, he shucked off all but his shorts and climbed in next to me. I spooned into him happily and he wrapped his arms around me. Then I shoved my butt against his crotch and put one of his hands on my breast. "Here, you can enjoy this, but don't get carried away. We need sleep." I smiled wearily. There, we weren't going too far or too fast, but I was back in control. He kissed the back of my head. That felt nice. Then he gently touched me, just enough to sooth my temper and not enough to keep me awake. And with that I fell asleep.


	9. Chapter 9

My night sleeping with Dave was the best one I'd had in a long time. I decided, and then told him, that I wanted to do a lot more of that. He didn't argue. Things were finally the way I wanted them. We were acting like partner, friends, a couple. But I was still in charge. Perfect. Some of that Orwell 'some pigs are more equal' shit.

Yes, I read. Don't let it surprise you so much the next time.

We worked out some during the week. But Dave still had school that he wanted to finish and I had decided I wasn't willing to be behind him in anything so I was studying like crazy for the GED. Dave slept with me most nights as he slowly moved his stuff from his place to mine. There was something nice about having two toothbrushes beside the sink again. Generally, we were both tired enough that other than a bit of kissing, we just fell asleep snuggled together. I loved it but also worried that if things didn't move along at least a little bit, I'd stop being Sexy Mindy and start being Pillow Mindy. Still, it was a nice vacation from craziness, death, hiding, or drama so I figured it was fine for a while.

Friday night, we went out, but not in costume. This was recon. I had decided it would be better to go back to the habits that had kept Daddy and me safe for quite a while. That meant locating the bad guys and then planning a hit, instead of just wandering around waiting for bad shit to happen. It also meant we got to enjoy the evening. We had a nice dinner before we went stalking and got to smooch in dark corners from time to time. While doing so, I realized that some of my problems with Dave had been my own fault. When I acted like a kid, he treated me as one. When I acted like a young woman, he responded like a bee following flowers. Maybe I didn't have to worry about us getting too comfortable.

We were still walking through some pretty bad neighborhoods though. You had to if you wanted to find the real scum. Near the end of the evening, we turned a corner and ran into a girl younger than me dressed, or maybe I should say undressed, like a hooker. She was obviously nervous but pushed herself into coming over to talk to us. There was a lot of fear in her voice when she offered to do one of us for $20 or both for $30. Shit. I glanced at her arms and she didn't have any obvious needle tracks or anything so she must have been new. When we declined, she begged. Fuck. The only thing that put that much fear in a girl was a pimp. I didn't see him anyplace though so I couldn't administer chastisement on the spot. Dave seemed to at least understand a little of what was going on and I saw the pain in his eyes. He pulled out his wallet and just handed all the cash he had to her, explaining she didn't need to do a thing for us. It must have been over $100. I told her to just give it to her pimp and not to try to keep any of it. It should be enough to satisfy him. She didn't seem surprised that I knew the deal. I also slipped fifty into her back pocket and quietly told her about it while I had Dave pretend to 'check her out'. I hoped she'd manage to keep it and get something to eat. We walked away and Dave's eyes were wet. He pulled out his phone and keyed in the address so we'd know where to come back to. I didn't need to write it down. I'd find this spot again.

We got back to the safe house and quietly and deliberately planned the next evening. We were going to extract some vengeance on that bastard pimp. Dave wanted to get the girl out of there and hopefully on a bus back home. I knew that wasn't going to happen. Whatever she'd run away from must have sucked worse than this. Dave held me very tight when we went to sleep that night, and I was reminded that I'd seen a lot more of this shit than he had. We took another walk though the neighborhood during the day on Saturday so we knew where things were, picked our ambush point, and went back to the safe house to rest. Once it started to get dark, we packed up and headed out. Again, I couldn't bring myself to carry a gun. Dave didn't even notice this time, but I justified it to myself by deciding my staff and knives would be more fitting.

We got into place about an hour after sunset, having changed up on a roof. Sure as shit, there she was again. We were even early enough to see when her pimp walked her out to the corner and then faded back into the shadows.

"Kick-ass, you ready?" I whispered over the wireless radios we were using.

He responded immediately. "Ready. I'll get her out of the way and then come in from behind. Just in case you need help." I wouldn't need help, but that was the plan we'd worked out. The scumbag was about to pass under me and I so leapt down from the railing of the fire escape I was hiding in to pin the fucker to the ground.

The cocksucker's phone picked that moment to ring. He turned and instead of me smashing him to the pavement and using him to break my fall, I landed right beside him, hard. My staff hit the ground and spun out of my hands. Fate then decided that things didn't suck enough and hit me with a dizzy spell when I tried to get up. The son of a bitch must have been psychic because when he heard the noise from me hitting the pavement, he just ran like the devil was on his tail. He didn't bother to look back; he just pounded pavement. By the time I was recovered and standing, he'd gotten around a corner. Dave was coming but he was at the wrong end of the alley to help. I pulled a throwing knife and ran after the bastard. He was fast. I mean, I'm quick, but my legs are only so long. This asshole appeared to be trying out for the Olympics. I made it around the next corner ready to throw, but it was too far. He was out of knife range but not out of pistol range, so I dropped the knife and went for my gun.

Even though I'd intentionally left the thing at home, I was still surprised when my hand just found empty air where the pistol would have been. He disappeared around another corner and I my heart knew that we'd never catch him now. Dave walked up to me. The dead look in my eyes was enough to tell him the pimp had gotten away. We walked back to talk to the girl only to find she was gone too. The poor dumb girl hadn't paid attention to Dave when he'd told her to wait. She'd run too. The fickle finger of fate, having fucked, moved on.

We found the knife I'd dropped, grabbed my staff and climbed back up to the roof. "What happened?" Dave asked me as soon as we were clear.

"His phone rang and he turned. I jumped, missed him and then I couldn't catch him." I told him. It was a little true. Dave bought it. I didn't tell Dave the rest. That if I hadn't gotten dizzy, I was good enough to have recovered and caught him before he got two steps. And that even if he'd still gotten past me, a bullet could have caught anyone, Olympic sprinter or not. We stayed until it started to get light out, hoping one of them would return. They didn't. So we packed up and headed home.

On Sunday, Dave couldn't stop talking about how it wasn't my fault and that it could happen to anyone. He truly believed it, which made me feel even worse inside because I knew it was bullshit. I'd had two chances and blown them both. He said we'd still find her and get her out of there. He was really talking to himself. He decided that we would go back out Sunday night, school be damned. I just went through the motions. We got there at dusk and found exactly what I knew we'd find. No one is dumb enough to leave loose ends like her around. She was already dead, wedged between some garbage cans like just another pile of trash. The pain on her face was unfathomable. We just stood there while tears ran down our faces. Dave cried for her. I cried for me because it was my fault and the dead don't need any tears. The only thing we could do was make sure she was found, so that maybe somewhere, the parents of a little lost girl might get some closure. It wasn't much, but it was all that we could do. But I knew the truth. I should have just knifed her when we first met. At least she'd have died without so much pain.


	10. Chapter 10

Like I said, we made sure the girl's body would be found and then we went home. The safe house was home for both of us now. As soon as we got in, Dave indulged in some of my techniques for dealing with frustration and flung stuff around. I went over to the wall, made myself pick up my favorite pistol and, staring at it, slumped to the floor. I just turned it over and over in my lap. Finally Dave got past throwing things and went verbal. "WHY!" He screamed.

"Because the world sucks, Dave. That pretty much sums it up." I said.

"What do you mean?" He asked wandering around aimlessly.

"You don't want to know." I said. He walked over and sat in front of me expectantly. "OK, but you're not going to like it. Generally we fight the mafia, drug dealers, that kind of shit. They're bad, but almost cartoonishly bad. Comic book bad. Real evil doesn't usually make it into comic books."

"I not sure I understand." Dave said.

"Those guys are organized. They're something to hit. Sure they ruin people's lives but we don't see that part. We take five bastards off of the streets and know that things will actually be a little better, at least for a while. That guy… That's a kind of evil you've never seen."

I explained to him how it worked. Young girls and some guys but not as many, streamed into large cities every day, mostly on buses. A few were running to something, like fame or fortune. The dream of a better life. That was in places like Hollywood, Los Angeles, or New York. Most of them were running from something. Maybe from a fight with a parent or boyfriend. Maybe from a stupid mistake they made and thought was the end of the world. Maybe from gossip in a little town. Maybe from family who couldn't handle it if they said they were different or gay or just didn't fit into whatever picture the parents had painted for them. Generally it wasn't as large a problem as they thought it was and a little bit of time would have solved it. Sometimes it wouldn't have. Some were kicked out. Most of them left on their own.

I told Dave how I'd gotten to know kids like this while I was hiding. Some were abused. Some had been raped. But most of them were just normal kids. Shit, there was even one silly girl who had actually left home because she'd gotten a B on a test and couldn't face telling her parents she didn't have that perfect 4.0 anymore. I'd been shocked at that one. There was one thing they all had in common. They were all lonely. All of them desperately needed a friend.

No, I didn't mention this earlier on purpose. It wasn't something I wanted to remember. I had managed to save a few and lose a few while I was wandering from motel to motel. It was probably one of the reasons that I was willing to be a little girl again for a while when I returned to Dave.

Anyway, there they would be. Deep in the shitter and with no idea how to get back out. And then a supposed 'friend' like that son of a bitch who got away would find them and take them in. He gave them food and shelter. He listened to their problems. He got their trust and then slowly cut off any ties they had left to home or anyone else who might support them. He made sure they wouldn't even think about calling home ever again. He might even have pretended to be their boyfriend. He made sure they believed they had nowhere else to go and that he was all they had. Then came the complaints about how expensive it was to support them. He'd guilt them into little things at first. Shoplifting. Selling drugs. Blowjobs in a back alley. And he'd always take the time to make sure they believed that all of it was their fault. That they owed him for what he was doing to support them. It went up from there. Usually he would hook them on drugs so there was another anchor on their life. At that point they were just a meal ticket.

Dave stared at me shocked. "Then why did he kill her? Couldn't he still use her?"

"Those guys don't want to get caught, Dave. I'm sure we scared him enough last night to push him over the edge. Any hint that the kid is rebelling or might cause him trouble and they'll cut them loose. Unfortunately quite literally in this case. Because the victim probably at least knew where the bastard lived and typically it was easier to find a new one than it was to find a new apartment. That's why I knew that she'd be dead. And while I didn't expect her body to be there for us to find, I knew we'd never see her alive again."

Dave tried to talk. "That's…. That's…."

I finished for him. "Evil. There is no other word, Dave. Not cruel, or stupid, or mean. Evil. I mean, with the bigger slavers you can find and kill them. Break up a brothel or a sweatshop. Kill the fucker in charge and rescue a whole bunch of people. You got to do that once with Justice Forever and I bet it felt good. It was good. But these little ones… You can't find them all. And they'll never run out of victims. And do you want to know what's even worse? A lot of them have real families at home, with wives they love and children that they snuggle and read to at night. Evil isn't a big enough word for these people but it's all I've got. All my curse words aren't enough. These guys not only destroy lives, they destroy souls."

I didn't realize that Dave was Catholic until I saw him pray for a moment and make the sign of the cross. He was Polish so I probably should have made the connection but he'd never shown any indication of it before. Then Dave saw me playing with the pistol in my hands and recognized the overwhelming guilt in my eyes. And of course he jumped to the wrong conclusion. "Mindy, give me the gun. It's not your fault."

"It is my fault." I said, still staring into oblivion. Telling all of that had exhausted me and I didn't want to think anymore.

"Give me the gun. This isn't a solution." Dave sounded scared.

I looked into his eyes and suddenly it clicked why his mood had changed so quickly. So, I popped the clip out of the gun to show him it was empty. "I am not going to kill myself, dumbass. And I don't store loaded guns on the wall." He still looked doubtful so I just handed him the thing. "But Dave, you're still wrong. It is my fault."

"Mindy, you did your best. His phone rang at the wrong moment and you had some bad luck." He defended my actions. I couldn't let it stand.

I looked Dave straight in the eye. "Dave, it is not only my fault once, it is my fault twice. I've been lying to you. Ever since the accident, I've had dizzy spells and problems with concentration. When I came down behind the guy, I still would have gotten him if the fucking world didn't decide to spin again. And when I was chasing him, I had a moment when I could have shot him. But I haven't been able to handle carrying a gun since the accident. It's just too painful." I shoved myself to my feet and walked across the room. "And now I think I'd like to be alone for a while."

"Mindy, I'm not leaving you." Dave protested.

"Actually, Dave, you are. Out. Now!" He tried to hug me and I slapped him. That got his attention. He tried to move toward me again but I think the hardness in my glare stopped him. He grabbed his jacket and headed right out the door. And when he left, I did nothing. I didn't cry. I didn't scream. I didn't throw or destroy anything. I just leaned against the wall and tried to pretend the world didn't exist.

About an hour later, the ticking of the clock that Dave gave me cut through my deadness. I'd made a hell of a mess. I'd fucked up last night and a girl had died. And as much as I wanted to, I couldn't fix that. Then I hit the one person who wanted to help me. I hit my Dave. And not in the practice or playful ways I usually did. I did it in anger. Christ, couldn't I fucking control myself?

Another few ticks and I realized I'd also kicked him out of his home. And it was getting late. We had got back around 10 PM after finding the body. I'd kicked him out at about 11:30. I mean, he still had his house to go to, but he lived here now. And I loved him and wanted him back. I grabbed my phone and called. No answer. I left a message apologizing. An hour later I called and left a second message, begging him to come home. Another hour and a third message that included sobbing didn't change a fucking thing. I was still alone. Finally, I decided to go to bed.

Is it fucked up that I used his toothbrush?

A hammering at the door woke me at about 4 AM. I grabbed a weapon and went to look out the peephole. It was Dave. His hands were blood red and swollen. His eyes were unreadable. I opened the door and he just about fell inside. I got the door closed, pulled him over to the couch, and got some cloths and bandages to clean up his hands. He'd obviously beaten something or someone with just his bare fists. I wasn't sure if he'd broken anything. I didn't even try to talk to him until the bandaging was done.

"What the hell did you do?" I gently.

"I found him." Dave said quietly.

"Found who?" I replied.

"The sprinter. The pimp. The bastard. I found him."

"How?" I asked. "I mean he could have been anywhere in the whole fucking city?"

"You told me where he'd be." Dave was still talking quietly.

"No, I'm pretty sure I didn't Dave. Because if I'd known where he was, I'd have gone and killed him." I said.

"Sure you told me. You said he'd be at the bus station. You said that's where they went for fresh blood. I went to the one closest to where we found her body and there he was. Chatting up another young girl. Another victim. Another meal ticket."

"That fast? Another girl?" I barely breathed the words.

"Yep. I walked up to him and shoved him against the wall. The girl got spooked and ran. Then I grabbed him. He may have been fast but he wasn't strong. Nobody interfered as I dragged him back into the alley. I kept dragging him until we were nice and alone. And then I beat him until he stopped moving. After thinking about it for a minute, I checked and discovered that he wasn't dead yet. That didn't seem OK with me, so I hit him some more until that little problem had been corrected. I don't remember much else until I was at our door. And I couldn't open it because I couldn't make my fingers hold onto the keys." He looked at me. "And I'm not fucking sorry I did it!"

"Dave, there are cameras at the bus station; you weren't in your costume…."

"I didn't care. If a cop had come up after I'd finished beating him, I'd have gone without a fight."

"Why?" I managed to get out of my suddenly dry throat.

"Because he killed that girl. And probably other girls. Who didn't deserve one goddamn thing that happened to them. And because he hurt you. Not physically, but here." And Dave put his finger on my chest above my heart. "So it was worth it."

"Dave, I'm sorry I yelled. I'm sorry I slapped you." I begged, trying to find something human in his eyes.

"It's OK. You wouldn't be Hit Girl if you didn't smack me from time to time." He replied. I didn't like how that sounded, but decided now wasn't the time to deal with it. "I was pretty sure that you wouldn't be able to get over it until that fucker was dead. I knew I couldn't. You'd just obsess about him. So I made it happen. Now I'm going to sleep and tomorrow we'll work on getting you back to your old self."

He dragged himself over to our bed and climbed in. I climbed in too and tried to put my arms around him. He didn't so much push me away as adjust his position every time I got my arms on him. I gave up and after a few minutes he fell asleep. After waiting long enough to make sure he was out, I cheated and wrapped my arms back around him. That worked.

I lay there wide awake and thought about the sacrifice Dave had just made for me. Dave had never killed anyone like this. Sure he'd fought people. Sure he'd been in fights where his opponent might have died. He'd Gatling gunned down the D'Amico muscle. And he'd killed D'Amico senior, but honestly, it was with a bazooka. It was reasonably funny and somehow didn't count. But there was a difference between pulling a trigger and deliberately beating someone to death. I had done it more times than I could count. My soul was already stained. His hadn't been but it was now. I owed Dave. More than I was willing to even think about.


	11. Chapter 11

Dave woke up before me the next morning, got dressed and headed off to what I was hoping was school. I wished I'd woken up with him. I would have given a lot to know how he reacted to my arms being wrapped around him. So, I spent the morning puttered around, cleaning, re-organizing, and doing anything that didn't involve too much thinking. I was leaning over some stacked mats to get a power bar wrapper that had escaped at some point and dizziness put me on my ass again. As usual, I decided to ignore it. Then I turned around and saw stains on the couch next to where I'd clean up Dave's hands. The mixture of Dave's blood and the bastard's blood staining it had already faded to a dark red-brown. Once blood dried like that there was no getting rid of it; I didn't care what Tide and Oxyclean claimed.

That man was dead because Dave had beaten him to death. Dave killed him in a way that I rarely do. Cuts, swipes, dismembering, stabs through the chest, I specialized in those. I'd aimed gunshots to either disable or kill. And while I'd even tortured a few people, pedophiles and the like mostly, it still had been separate. I'd hurt them and then killed them. Two separate actions. Dave had mashed it all together. Especially when he said he'd checked if the guy was still alive and when he was, kept beating him. I'd generally have done some sort of coup de grace at that point. Put them out of their misery. I wasn't sure what to think about this side of Dave.

Well, it wasn't as if the bastard hadn't deserved to die. So I couldn't find it in my heart to feel any pity for him. I guess I was mad because in the end, the cocksucker had still won. I had no idea how many girls he'd destroyed but at least the number wouldn't get any higher. It should have been 'bad guy removed from street, world is a better place'. But it wasn't. It had cost Dave a piece of his soul to kill him. And if someone was supposed to pay that price, I'd have preferred that it was me. So as I said, even in death the fucker had still won.

Luckily Dave came home before I had wallowed too much. His hands were splinted and I had to help him unpack his book bag. He said he'd been by the ER and they had taken x-rays of his hands. There was nothing broken, thank god, just tremendous bruising to his joints. Then he had to pee and I had to help him unbutton his pants. His fingers worked but couldn't handle too much pressure or fine manipulation. I was going to tease him about turnabout being fair play, but the joke just froze on my lips when I saw his still dead eyes. He was able to manage the rest and changed into sweat pants afterward so he wouldn't have to worry about it again.

He started on his homework. I just sat and watched. Half the time he was working on problems, the other half of the time he just stared at his hands. I understood and gave him his space. The first time you kill someone like that will mess you up. When we went to bed that night, I tried to hold him again but this time he was just limp in my arms. Finally I rolled over and went to sleep.

Nothing really changed for the rest of the week. Dave would talk some but not about anything serious. He didn't even bring up my dizzy spells or gun issues. That shocked me. I figured he'd be all over that. Not a mention though. By Friday the bandages were off and his hands were pretty much back to normal. I went to try to plan the weekend with him and he just closed up. Spring break had snuck up on us and Dave had the entire next week off. I even suggested we take a trip together, do something fun, but he refused. He said he wasn't in the mood. So I mumbled at him under my breath "Pity Party, table for one." It was just loud enough for him to hear.

He exploded. "You heartless BITCH! I'm sorry that I'm upset over having killed someone in cold blood. I guess little miss perfect killer doesn't give a rat's ass who she murders. You don't care how much blood is on your hands. Hell, you probably fucking get off on it! I've seen you looking all excited after a big fight, especially if you managed to send a limb or two flying! Well, that wasn't what I fucking signed up for, OK? I wanted to help people. Not murder them! How the fuck do you sleep at night?"

Anger. Excellent. Anger I could deal with. I shot back. "You want to fucking help people? Then grow some balls Dave! If you can't handle the real work, go back to working at soup kitchens and finding lost fucking cats. I do what needs to be done. Some of the people we fight against are truly evil and deserve to be put down like the rabid dogs that they are. Zip-cuffing them up for the police to find isn't always enough. You may hate it, but you did the right thing Sunday night. You took an inhuman monster off the street." I was yelling but not actually that upset. This was the best conversation we'd had all week. He needed this.

"Who says you get to play God? To decide who lives and who dies?" He screamed back at me.

"Play God? Holy shit, Dave. You're fucking delusional. I don't get to make those decisions. If I did, Daddy would still be alive. Your dad would still be alive. And that poor dumb girl wouldn't have ended up dead and stuffed behind garbage cans. I fucked up and she died. If I got to play God, she'd be somewhere safe with people who loved her. They all would! But, she's dead and I have to live with it. That's a hell of a lot harder than living with the knowledge that that you killed some cocksucker who didn't deserve to take so much as one more breath on this planet."

"You don't understand! " He spat at me.

"Bullshit! Dave, I've been doing this longer than you have. My Daddy taught me that every one of us makes choices. Those guys chose to be criminals and scum. They decided to rape, to molest, and to prey upon the weak. They decided to be gangsters, drug dealers, and real murderers. You didn't murder shit; you put down a rabid dog. Those people kill because they like it."

Dave replied. "But I liked killing that guy!"

We both stopped for a moment, shocked by what he had said.

I replied back in a quiet voice. "No you didn't, Dave. You liked that he was paying for his crime. You liked that he suffered like he made that girl suffer and who knows how many others suffer. You liked that you got to be the instrument of vengeance. I feel that way all the time. But you didn't like killing and neither do I."

"How do you know?" He replied, responding to my voice and calming down.

"Because you care that you did it. Because even though he was a complete piece of shit, you still care. You've been torturing yourself about it all week. A real murderer doesn't feel guilt. Both of us feel guilt for what has happened. But sometimes it's necessary. And I just have learned to live with it a bit better."

"How?"

"Daddy helped me. The first time I killed someone and ended up covered in blood, I couldn't seem to get clean when we got back to headquarters. Daddy almost thought I was going to drown myself in the tub and I wouldn't stop scrubbing. Finally he ordered me out and had me come with him. And he showed me a different way to look at things.

"What did he do?" Dave asked.

"Well, it's a little childish. I was only 8 at the time."

"Still, how did he explain?" Dave persisted, like the story was some sort of life preserver.

"Dave, I was eight. It was silly." I looked at his eyes. "OK. I'll do just what he did." I threw an ace bandage at him. "Wrap that around your eyes and tie it." He did. I went into the kitchen and grabbed a couple of kool aid packets. Then I grabbed some tape and a binder from one of the taller shelves.

"What are you doing?" Dave asked.

"Like I said, I'm doing what my Daddy did." I taped up a bunch of pages from the notebook on the walls of the bathroom and then led Dave in there. Then I put his hands over the sink and poured the packets of dry kool aid onto his hands.

"You're not going to hurt me, are you?"

"No. It's just a visual demonstration. Now, look down at your hands. Don't look up until I tell you."

"How can I look at my hands? I'm blindfolded."

"Point your head at them, dumbass. I'm going to take the blindfold off. Don't look up." He complied and I pulled off the bandage. "Do you see any blood on your hands right now?" I asked.

"Well, no." he replied. "But it's like I can feel it there."

"Fine. Wash them. "He did, and within moments of them being under the spray, every bit of water in the sink was bright red and his hands were stained with it.

"What the hell?"

"Cherry kool aid." I said. "I was 8, remember? It's not like Daddy was going to stick my hands in actual blood. Anyway, so how do your hands look now?"

"Stained" he said. I waited. "And… "I prompted. After a few minutes, he continued. "All right. They look bloody."

"Exactly. And no matter how hard you scrub, that won't come off for days. Kind of like your imaginary blood."

"I'm still missing the point of all this." he said, trying to get off as much of the stuff as possible.

"Don't worry. It'll make sense in a minute. Now look up." Surrounding him were pictures of missing persons, crime scenes, and other images of what happens to the victims of the things we try to stop. "Dave, we can't get the blood off our hands. We never will. But it isn't the blood of the scumbags. It's these people's blood. It is the blood of innocent people that didn't get saved." I reached up and taped up one more picture in front of him. It was of the girl from the alley. "I'll never get her blood off my hands because I could have saved her and I didn't. But I'll always feel a little better knowing that you cared enough to make sure the fucker who did it is gone. That's what Daddy showed me. I don't feel bad about the ones I kill Dave. I feel bad about the ones I couldn't save." I kissed him lightly on the cheek.

I'd accepted it. I still felt awful for not having saved her. But I'd learned with Daddy that I couldn't save everyone. No one could. Her face joined the menagerie that stared at me when I closed my eyes at night. The ones I hadn't been good enough for. And Daddy was in that group because I hadn't gotten to him in the warehouse in time. I never prayed. But late at night, when I couldn't sleep, I sometimes apologized to those that I hadn't saved and then tried to focus on those I had. It helped a little. I hoped this would help Dave to put things in perspective.

He tried to protest one more time. I cut him off.

"Dave, you wanted to know how I felt? How I could sleep at night? How I dealt with the blood on my hands? Well, take a look." I gestured at the pictures. "Because every time I fail, every time I don't do EVERYTHING that I can do, a person like one of these pays the price. I don't answer to God, the police, or the pieces of shit I kill. I don't even answer to you. I answer to them." I gestured at the flyers again. "And so do you, Dave. Neither one of us can wash this off." I held up my hands which I'd also dyed in the kool aid. "When I became a superhero, I accepted the responsibility to take care of them. You did too. All we can do is our best and accept the fact that it will never be enough."

He turned to me and kissed me softly with tear filled eyes. "Thank you." He said quietly. We moved out to the couch and sat down together. And, even better than me finally getting hold him, we held each other quietly for a long time, quietly mourning our loss until we could let it go for a while. Our breathing sped up and we looked into each other's eyes. Finally he spoke. "OK, how do we get this red crap off our hands?"

I laughed. "Time, Dave. In time it fades away."

"Well, if it hasn't faded much, we're going to look pretty silly on Monday when we go to the appointment to get your head checked out." He said conversationally. I looked up at him sharply.

"Appointment?"

"Yeah. That's why I haven't bugged you about the dizzy spells all week. I couldn't get you in until next Monday." He said.

"And when were you going to tell me?" I asked with a note of panic in my voice.

"Monday morning. Seemed safer that way. But I decided you should know now."

"I'm not going!" I managed to spit out.

He just hugged me closer. "Yes you are. And I'll be with you. You helped me face my demons; I'll help you face yours."

"But…" I tried to say.

He interrupted. "You just spent the last hour helping me understand what we really do. And a way to not lose my soul while doing it. You owe it to those innocent people to find out what's messed up in your head so it can be fixed. You're not going to start arguing with yourself, are you?"

"Fuck. I hate it when it my words are used against me. "I said.

"Then let's stop talking for a while. I ignored you all week. I have some time to make up for." With that, he began kissing me. It started as kisses of comfort but didn't take all that long to heat up.

"Dave, I love you." I breathed to him. I moved my hands under his waistband and began to touch him.

"I love you too." He kissed me some more, his hands also wandering. "But you're still not getting out of appointment."

"Damn it!" I said. But I didn't stop kissing him or touching him. Because he was right and I needed to see that doctor. No more avoiding problems.

Plus, by then he had gotten most of my clothes off and it was strangely erotic watching his cherry red fingers pinch my nipples. And then he slid them down my stomach and under the elastic at the top of my panties. After that, I wasn't arguing with anything at all.


	12. Chapter 12

Dave and I fell asleep after playtime like two exhausted kittens. Kind of in a pile and wrapped up together so much you can't exactly tell which is which. Eventually, Dave said he needed to get started on homework. I said that he didn't because he had all of Spring Break to work on it. But, he was determined so we got up. Dave pulled his clothes back on and grabbed an assignment for his English class. I didn't bother dressing. It was rather fun prancing about with nothing on. And even though we'd already spent some quality sexy time together, little Dave seemed to enjoy it too. That or Dave had snuck a pistol in his pocket. I was shameless. I mean, you wouldn't have believed how many little tiny specks of dirt were on the floor. And I picked up every single one. Some of them were behind things so I had to reach over to get them at strange angles, some were a few steps away so I figured a cartwheel or a flip was the best way to get to them. I even spotted one behind me and used a backbend to get to it. Goodness, the place had been dirty.

I moved behind Dave and noticed he'd managed to read two whole pages. That was just unacceptable. So, I told him I was cold and went into the bedroom. I came back out in a lacy transparent teddy and continued 'cleaning'. That worked much better. I don't think he managed to read another word. I guess they were right. It was better to tease than reveal. I couldn't believe how much having power over Dave turned me on. I thought about strippers and I couldn't figure out how they could do this for someone they didn't like. That would be, well, gross and embarrassing. Some guy just staring at your cunt all day, then trying to touch you with dollar bills that had been who knows where. The way I showed myself to Dave was as much for me as for him. He watched every inch of me. And I proudly drove him nuts. Any doubts I had left about Katie or Nightbitch having more of an effect on Dave than me were destroyed when I looked at his eyes.

I changed outfits three more times, just for the fuck of it. After the first change though, I stopped pretending there was dirt and just decided to show him how fit and flexible I was. I also started to think about what I wanted to do next. So far, Dave and I had done a lot of kissing and touching. We'd gotten each other off with our hands. And, honestly, that had been pretty amazing. There was power in that too. I loved feeling Dave's dick pulse in my hand and his eyes roll back when he came. And oh my god, his fingers! Once I'd gotten past the embarrassment of him touching me between my legs, of how wet I got, and the way I repeated my seizure impersonation every time he made me cum, it was just pure heaven. I looked over at him and the book had almost fallen out of his hands.

I decided that it was time to up the ante. I wanted more. And, there were really only two steps left, oral and full on sex. I decided I was ready for both, but would just play things by ear. I was a little nervous about trying to blow him. I mean, it wasn't something you could exactly practice at. And while I'd previously thought the entire idea of sucking a dick was gross, the idea of watching him thrash while I tormented him dispelled that from my mind completely. Well, that and the fact that he was so excited right now that if I didn't like it, I probably wouldn't have to do it for very long.

I locked my eyes onto his and pulled him over to the couch. I shoved his pants down and forced him to sit. Then I knelt at his feet and started to gently touch his cock. He groaned. I gave him a smile and said "Don't cum yet. I've got a surprise for you." Then I ran my tongue up his dick. He jumped, or at least, he would have if I wasn't holding him down. Oh my god, that was cool. I licked him again, kind of in a swirl. Again he couldn't stay still.

"Min…" He tried to say. I just reached up with one hand, grabbed his lips and pinched them closed. Then I wrapped my lips around the top of his dick and started bobbing up and down. He tried to stay still but wasn't being all that successful. I tried kind of moving my head around in a circle while I kept going up and down. Kind of like carousel does. That worked even better. It was difficult to keep a straight face as he tried to stay still. I really wanted to burst into giggles. It wasn't that long before he seemed to be trying to talk to me and failing miserably. He was grabbing onto the couch cushions and anything else he could find. He seemed to have instinctively known not to grab my head. I wouldn't have put up with that. I mean, there were limits. I'd already thought about whether I would pull off of him at the last moment. But, I didn't want to miss giving him that last lick that took him over the edge. So I kept going as his moans got louder. It wasn't more than another minute before he exploded. The actual force of it took me by surprise but it wasn't super unpleasant so I swallowed it. I might have considered spitting, but seriously, where exactly was I supposed to spit it? On my couch? I don't think so. I've already got bloodstains on the thing. I didn't need cum stains too.

I looked up at him with a grin. "Well, that was quick." I winked at him saucily. "Couldn't you hold out a little bit longer?"

He took a minute to catch his breath before he replied. "You expected me to last after the show you just put on? I'm still surprised I didn't cum in my pants when you did the handstand splits in that thong. Especially when you balanced on one hand and adjusted the thong!" I grinned at him. "But you didn't have to do that if you didn't want to."

"Dave? Newsflash for you. I'll never do that if I don't want to. No fucking way. Quick hint, don't ever ask. But right now, I'm having a blast making you go nuts. Or maybe that's making your nuts go. "I winked. "Well, was I any good at it?" I asked.

"I feel like Ralphie in A Christmas Story. A + + + + + + + + + +!" he said. Yes, even I have seen that movie and so I laughed too. Then he pulled me up for a kiss.

"Wait, I might still have cum in my mou…" He covered my mouth with his and kissed me thoroughly.

"Who in the fuck cares?" he gasped out before kissing me some more. Then he picked me up, took me to the bedroom, and lay me down on the bed. Somewhere along the way I lost the lingerie I was wearing. I'm not entirely sure how. I later found my thong in the kitchen. Neither one of us had a clue how it got there. He went back to kissing me and was soon making my nipples feel as hard as bullets. First with his fingers, and then with his tongue. Now it was me who couldn't keep still. Then as fingers started to move down my side, across my hip, and through my pubic hair. His mouth moved down my stomach. I started to feel a bit nervous. Not bad nervous but….

"Dave, just because I did that to you doesn't mean you have to do it to me!" The bastard reached up with one hand and repeated the lip closing gesture I'd done to him earlier.

He looked up at me with a silly grin on his face. "Have to? Have to?! Seriously? Do you have any idea how long I've been dying to do this to you?" And with that he went back to work.

Well, that stopped any argument I could think of. He made me wait though. He started with kisses up and down the insides of my thighs. Then it was on to kisses on the insides of my knees as he stretched me open and looked right inside me. Feeling that exposed was an unexpected rush. Next, the kisses started to circle around my pubic hair. They were the most torturous. "Dave, if you've been dying to do this, then why don't you get started already?" I gasped at him. He gave me the same evil grin I'd given him earlier and kissed me right in the middle of my pussy.

I think I began to purr. Or moan. Or – fuck, I don't know. I may have been whimpering at some point. I refused to either confirm or deny it when Dave asked me about it later. Kisses quickly turned to licks. They alternated from soft licks to hard sucking right on my clit. He went quickly side to side or slowly up and down my pussy. Two of his fingers began to just barely slip in and out of me while he kept on licking. It was almost ticklish, but not. I grabbed onto his head and pulled him in harder.

Note that I'm allowed to grab his head and he is not allowed to grab mine. My pussy, my rules.

At this point I was flopping around like a fish. I'd started this so turned on that I almost couldn't handle how good it felt. First there was the power rush of driving him insane with my body, then the thrill of making him cum, and finally whatever the hell he was doing to my pussy that felt so good that I couldn't even keep track of it anymore. To echo one of the bitches, I was soaked. I also felt like a fucking goddess. Or maybe a Fucking Goddess. There's some slight difference there but I'm really not sure what it is. It was not a moment for deep introspective thought. I did know that all of the sensations were beginning to condense into one long burst of light, color, sound, rainbows, and muscles pulsing, and whatever else you can come up with to describe bliss. I came. I couldn't tell for how long, but it seemed to just keep going. Finally it was too much and I let go of him. After a minute, I yanked him up to kiss him. He tried to make the same excuse about his mouth that I had but I just parroted back "Who the fuck cares!" and kissed him soundly. We then collapsed onto the bed.

Well, I'd reached that moment of decision. Stop here or go on. I decided to let little Dave decide. If he was soft, we were stopping. If he was hard, it was full steam ahead. I reached down.

He was hard.

Yes!


	13. Chapter 13

Well, Dave and I had just traded oral… gifts? OK – I gave him a blowjob and he ate my pussy. You shouldn't do the act if you can't say the words. And while normally I have no problem swearing, actually referring to sexual things I've either done or had done to me was still a little weird. And I had decided that if Dave still had enough stamina to be excited after all of that, then I wanted to go the rest of the way. I was ready for Dave to fuck me.

I reached over and made sure that little Dave was ready for the challenge. There was no question about it. Dave must have found eating me a turn on because little Dave was hard as he could be. We were ready to fuck.

Ugg. I had to figure out the language! I'd gotten so used to using phrases like 'Eat me!' and 'Go fuck yourself!' as insults that using them to describe myself or what we were doing felt, well, dirty. And not sexy like it should have felt. But rolling over to Dave and saying "Make love to me!" felt kind of corny too. While I was trying to figure out how to phrase it, I played with Dave's dick. He rolled over, looked me in the eye, and said "Do you want to?"

I beamed back at him. "Yes!" I shouted. Dave reached into the drawer next to him and pulled out a box of condoms. I had bought them, so they were colored. I laughed when he took the extra effort and pulled out the purple one. "It's like you know me or something!" I laughed.

"Mindy, only for you would I make my dick purple." He said, trying to keep a straight face.

I took it out of his hand and, with some help from him, rolled it down him. The condom plus my being on the pill would make sure that I still fit into my costumes in six months and we didn't have a mini-crime fighter in nine. He moved over me and got in position. I took a deep breath as he started to rub the head of his cock up and down my pussy.

"Mindy?" He asked. "I'm going to do my best here, but sometimes it isn't easy for girls to cum this way. Especially the first few times they do it. It might even hurt."

"OK." I said, trying not to let on how nervous I was. "As long as it's us together, that doesn't matter too much. Well, at least for the first time. But you better fucking try!"

"I will." Dave said, a little nervously. "Do you promise not to mangle me if I'm not perfect?"

I gave him an evil smile. "I promise nothing. Now get in me!"

"OK – I'm going to try to go slow here. Let me know if anything hurts." He began to slide in millimeter by millimeter.

"Umm, a little faster Dave. I'd like you inside me before I have to collect Social Security…" He moved up the pace and the stretching feeling was unreal. No pain though. I hadn't expected any, but I suppose it had been possible. It felt amazing and when I was sure he was all the way in, I craned my neck to see. He was only about an inch or so inside. Shit! This might be more involved than I thought. "Keep going Dave." I said.

He sped up the pace and slipped the rest of the way in. I finally understood what being 'full' really meant. Wow. And there was this look in his eye like he had made me his and surprisingly, I didn't mind it at all. He looked down at me. "Are you good?"

"Definitely. Now, get on with the thrusting and stuff!"

The orgasm Dave had given me earlier had been spectacular. But this was so different that I didn't even know how to describe it. It was just… Right. I should have felt embarrassed. I mean, his dick was sliding in and out of my pussy. That's even more intimate then when he was licking me earlier. He stared into my eyes and I stared right back at him with the stupidest grin on my face. Then, after a few minutes, he seemed to relax and start to enjoy himself. He stopped worrying about hurting me or me hurting him for somehow messing up. I watched the twitches that his muscles made as he moved in and out and it somehow made me wetter. I stared him in the eyes and for fun, squeezed with every muscle I had down there. He whimpered, but it was a good whimper. "Mindy, don't do that or this won't last very long. I responded by squeezing him each time he was all the way in. "Mindy…" He said.

"OK, I'll be good." I giggled and stopped the squeezing.

"Good? Good is not the problem. Oh my god, you're amazing." He replied.

Things were starting to warm up and my back was cramping up a bit, so I shifted down. The next thrust made me let out a sound surprisingly close to the word 'eek.' Dave tried to stop. "No no no!" I said. "No stopping. That was a good eek!" I pushed my butt kind of into the mattress and shifted my hips up. That felt even better but I managed to avoid any embarrassing exclamations this time. "That's it, Dave. Right like that. Keep going!"

"Am I hitting your…" Dave tried to say.

I interrupted, breathing harder with each stroke. "How the hell do I know what you're hitting? But it's working so KEEP DOING IT!" All I really knew was my body was reaching for some different kind of orgasm and if there was some way he could have pounded all the way into me and then somehow pushed his body even farther into mine, that would have been fantastic. Not deeper exactly, although Dave wasn't any slouch in that department. But more of us somehow melding together would have made my head pop off. I pushed up with each thrust now. I was done with being passive. Dave thrashed his head around, and I thought he might be losing control so I pinched him on the arm, hard.

"Ow!" he said, his eyes opening.

I panted. "Focus on me! Stay with me! No eye closing! I know you want to cum! So do I! Please, please, stay with me! Please don't leave me here!"

As in 'The Princess Bride', I think the 'please' got his attention. He took a deep breath and looked into my eyes again. His expression was a wonderful mix of determination and love. I could tell that he was still enjoying every second but now he wasn't lost in his own pleasure; we were sharing pleasure together. The feelings in my pussy intensified. It was like I was deep underwater and heading for the surface. I yearned desperately for that incredible breath when you finally broke the surface, but I didn't exactly know how much farther I still had to go. That was the orgasm I was chasing and I needed Dave to take me the whole way. Every time I thought I must about to burst through there was still a little farther to go. But it just kept getting better and better so I wasn't complaining. I started moving from side to side a bit and tried to stay focused on his eyes as I glided closer and closer. His breath got ragged and I begged him silently with my eyes for him to hold on for just a little bit longer. Then one of us started pulsing and the other followed right after. To this day, I'm not sure if his orgasm made me cum or my orgasm made him cum. He wasn't sure either. I guess it didn't matter. It might have been seconds; it might have been a minute or more. Every muscle in both our bodies tensed solid. And we both had a lot of muscle. Finally, his muscles let go and he collapsed on top of me. A few seconds later mine let go as well and we were as limp as a puddle of kittens.

He tried to pull away, to take his weight off of me, but I hung on tight. He looked into my eyes and I just had to reply "I want to be squished!" Then he took one of his hands, pushed my chin up, and began to kiss me with so much tenderness and desire that I almost couldn't stand it. Finally, we had to stop kissing so we could breath. My orgasm kept hitting us with little aftershocks that made both of us twitch. The feel of his cock slowly withdrawing from me as it shrunk was unreal. Finally, when he was just barely still inside, I squeezed and he popped the rest of the way out.

At that, we took a minute for the practical things. He disposed of the condom and we both cleaned ourselves up a bit. Then I grabbed for the blankets at the same time he grabbed for me. This had the desired effect of letting me lay my head on his chest and make sure my ass didn't get cold. He proceeded to make sure it was warm by resting his hands on it, one on each cheek. I lifted myself up for a moment because my boobs were squished a bit wrong and then settled back down.

"It's not supposed to be that good." Dave said. "The first time, I mean."

"Then I'm a natural?" I asked.

He looked at my hair, then lifted up a corner of the comforter and pretended to peer underneath. "Yep, you're a natural blonde all right. The drapes definitely match the carpet." I smacked his arm playfully. "Except maybe we need to put a couple of purple streaks down there…" I blushed and it felt wonderful.

"Shut up!" I said, and then feeling self conscious, I continued. "Really, was it…"

"It was amazing!" Dave interrupted me.

I tried to continue. "Better than Katy or N…

Dave cut me off again. "No comparison. If it gets any better, it just may kill me. But I'll die a happy man." Reassured by that statement, even though I knew it was a cliche, I lay my head back down and just started give his chest occasional tiny kisses. I felt him twisting his neck to stretch it, and then he froze. "Did I hurt you?" He asked.

"Quite the opposite, stupid." I replied. "Why?"

He pointed at the tissues I had used to clean up with that were sitting on the nightstand. They were lightly tinged red. I looked and giggled. "No you didn't hurt me. That isn't blood. That's the remains of the Kool-Aid that was still on our hands. And that ended up inside of me from your fingers.

"Oh, good." He said. We both laughed and he relaxed.

"Actually, how I lost my hymen is a funny story. Well, at least it is now." I said. "It happened when I was around 8 or 9. Daddy was teaching me a new karate move and I slipped and landed flat on the matt in a split position. I screamed out in pain because it really hurt landing that way and by the time he helped me up, my white workout pants had a large red stain right between my legs. Not to put too fine a point on it, but we both freaked."

"Big Daddy freaked? Over a little blood?" Dave asked.

"Hugely freaked. He had no idea what had happened, just that I was bleeding from my snatch. Not that he used that word. Anyway, he kept mumbling about breaking his daughter while he got me changed and packed up to go. I didn't know what was happening either so I was in full fledged panic as well. Usually when one of us was sick or injured, we'd go to some sort of back door clinic that for an extra $50 won't report 'suspicious injuries' to the authorities. But this time, he took me right to the real hospital emergency room. It was a nightmare. He wouldn't let any male doctors near me and the couple of female ones were already with other patients. Finally one got free, took me in back, and examined me. She seemed all concerned and asked me all kinds of questions about whether my Daddy or anyone else had ever touched me between my legs or had me do things to them. Shit, she even brought out some little naked muppets complete with boobs, dicks, and pubes and asked me to point. Finally, when I'd convinced her that no one had molested me and that if they tried, I'd kick the shit out of them, she asked me what I'd been doing right before I started bleeding."

I took a deep breath and continued. "I told her I was doing gymnastics, which was safer to say then karate, and that I'd managed to land in a full split position. Then she started laughing. At this point my nerves were shot and I was about to pull a knife and cut the bitch. But lucky for her, she recovered and explained I'd just torn my hymen. At my blank stare, she then explained what a hymen was. Then, she pulled Daddy into the room and read him the riot act because I didn't know what a hymen was and because he didn't realize that's why I was bleeding."

Dave chuckled. "Sounds like a spectacular night."

"It was." I grinned. "It's the only time I'd ever seen someone talk Daddy into a corner. He and I couldn't look each other in the face for about a week." I sighed. "Speaking of Daddy, I wonder what he'd think about us getting together."

"He'd probably have me hanging off of a building by my dick." Dave said.

"Nah, he liked you. But actually, we tried that with a pedophile once. It didn't work. You see, a cock isn't strong enough to hold a guy up without tearing, so what you have to do is get some aircraft cable and crimpers. You wrap the cable around his…" I noticed Dave's body freeze underneath me. "You don't want to hear this story, do you?" I asked.

"No. Definitely not." He replied. "What I want to do is snuggle up with the hottest, toughest crime fighter in the whole city until we've recovered enough for round two. And then I think I want to order Chinese food."

"No, Thai. But the rest sounds good" I said and rolled off of him to lay next to him instead. "I'm just going to take a little nap." I put my head on his shoulder and closed my eyes. I was almost fully relaxed. Having Dave call me the hottest crime fighter felt wonderful. But toughest? Well, I wouldn't be the toughest again until my head worked right and I could shoot a gun without closing my eyes. A little part of me was afraid that would never happen. Still, my body needed sleep and so I drifted off into dreams.


	14. Chapter 14

I thoroughly enjoyed the rest of the weekend. I even imperiously sent Dave on a mission to bring back more condoms and Mountain Dew or perish in the attempt. He succeeded of course and by the end of the weekend, I was walking rather funny. Not that I gave a shit. It was that stretchy soreness that a good workout gives you. Losing my virginity to Dave had been an unqualified success and it seemed to banish any thoughts he still might have harbored about me being a little girl. I mean, I wasn't an Olympic class gymnast but I could stretch in ways most women couldn't. That really kept his interest. Not only did I love Dave even more by the end of Sunday, but I honestly loved his dick. That thing made me feel amazing.

I'm not blushing! …. OK, I am. What are you going to do about it?!

Monday finally arrived and I grudgingly got ready for my doctor's appointment. It was time to see why I was still getting dizzy spells. I actually considered seeing if multiple blow jobs would distract Dave from the appointment. Especially since Dave had indeed remembered not to ask for them, so I'd only rewarded him when I was in the mood. Most of the time though, actually blowing him seemed silly, so I just got him hard so he could fuck me. It seemed a shame to waste a perfectly good boner when we both could enjoy the experience by fucking. And yes, I fucking got past the whole fucking language thing. So fuck you.

It was time to go and I couldn't put it off any longer. After walking about six blocks to make sure we couldn't be traced too close to the safe house, we caught a cab. We got into the office and I signed in. Then we both pretended to read out of date magazines while the god damn analog clock on the wall ticked so loud it should have been attached to a bomb. After what seemed like an eternity, the nurse took me back and I had to leave Dave behind. He gave me a little 'thumbs up' sign and so I turned away and casually flipped him off while scratching my head. The ordeal had begun.

I had returned to the world of paper clothing and big round scanners that they roll you inside of and then tell you stay still while appalling motor noises come out of the machine. I kept pulling on the purple streaks in my hair because it was all of Hit Girl that I really had left. Fucking hell, they were just scanning my head and somehow I still had to take my panties off? I mean, what the fuck?

I felt pretty helpless. The doctors and technicians wouldn't tell me shit. They just looked to make sure the machine hadn't fucked up and then sent me off to the next test. Eventually the scans were done and the vampires had finished filling an insane number of vials with my blood. As a reward for not going psycho and killing any of them, I got to go home and spend the rest of the day and night wondering what the hell they would find. Well, Dave did buy me ice cream on the way home so I got that too.

Dave caught my mood once we were settled in and took care of dinner without a lot of fuss. We ate and then just found a movie to put in that I'd seen a hundred times. I sat next to him with my head on his shoulder and let him play with my hair. It doesn't matter how old you are, that somehow always feels good. I didn't feel babied, just taken care of. And I was happy with that now. Once I was tired enough, we went to bed. Dave held me. Eventually the fear finally caught up with me and I started to shake. I'm not sure if I actually cried, but my face did end up rather damp. Dave didn't try to bullshit me by saying 'you'll be OK' or any of that crap. He was just my rock and held me close. After a while, I calmed down and managed to fall asleep.

Dave made me a very fancy breakfast that morning. It was delicious going down. Not so much when it came back up. For a moment, I even panicked that I might have gotten pregnant and that it was morning sickness. Daddy had always taught me to protect myself in more than one way so I resolved to somehow get a refill on my birth control pills while I was talking to the doctor since run out. Daddy wasn't actually talking about sex at the time, but I'm pretty sure he still would have felt the same. Well, that is if he didn't decide the best way to make sure I didn't get pregnant was by cutting Dave's dick off. But, I had to pay cash for these doctor visits so it was better to combine things when possible. Being a superhero did not come with health insurance.

I was so nervous that Dave had to virtually dress me and then physically drag me out to a cab. I zoned out at that point until we were sitting in one of those annoying chairs in the doctor's office where the arms were too high. The doctor came in and started flipping through the big stack of papers I assumed were my test results. After a few minutes, he closed the folder and looked at me sternly. "Well, young lady, I hope this will teach you to come in and tell us about your symptoms sooner next time." Dave reached out his hand and grabbed mine, holding it tight.

I tried to find enough saliva in my mouth to speak. "So, how long do I have?"

"How long until what?" he replied.

"Until I die." I said, trying to sound nonchalant about pretty much the most chalant thing on the planet.

The asshole doctor continued. "Dying? You're not dying." He sounded a little confused.

"Then what the fuck is wrong with me?" I rasped out.

He seemed amused by my swearing. Apparently he remembered me from the initial surgery. "You're experiencing some minor blood clots. That vessel in your head is still healing and it's not that tough for a tiny clot to get stuck for a moment. It isn't enough that you're in any real danger. Once you finish healing, it will go away." Dave and I both stared at him. "Here's a prescription for a mild blood thinner until you finish healing."

"Are you seriously saying that I had around $10,000 in tests run and all I needed were some pills?" I said, trying to sound calm.

"Well, you don't have insurance, so it's probably close to $20,000" he said. "But, yes, that is correct. That's why I said you should have come in sooner. We wouldn't have had to do all of the tests." The doctor continued, apparently not understanding the amount of danger he was in by continuing to bait me.

"You cock-sucking thief!" I screamed. His expression paled and I think he began to realize how much danger he was in. "I'm going to strip you naked give you a rectal exam with an IV pole!" I continued and I leapt out of my chair at him.

Dave's reflexes had definitely improved in the last few months. He actually caught me mid-air. As I continued to scream obscenities, he threw me over his shoulder in a fireman's carry. I was so pissed at the doctor that I didn't struggle with Dave. I just kept swearing.

"OK, we're done." Dave said. He took that opportunity to shove the prescription in his pocket and carried me out of the room. I continued to shout incoherently and upside down while he walked through the hospital. Finally I stopped the cursing and told Dave he could put me down. He ignored me and kept walking. I looked around. Nothing looked familiar.

"Dave, where in the hospital are we?" I asked.

"The north wing. We're heading out to grab a cab." He said, still holding me still.

"This isn't the way we came in." I told him, a bit petulantly.

"I decided to detour around the children's wing. I didn't want them to hear you."

"Oh." I replied kind of numbly. "Good idea. Seriously, you can put me down now."

"Not till we get to the cab. I don't want to have to chase you through the hospital. You're faster than me." He reached up and patted my butt.

"You do that again and I'll double kidney punch you." I told him. All I got was a chuckle.

About an hour later we arrived home, prescription and dinner in hand. We ate and then Dave left me alone for a while, somehow understanding that was what I needed. I stared at the bottle of pills for a long time before I took the first one. It had all been this simple. Because I was stupid, I could have killed Dave when I threw that knife at him shortly after I got out of the hospital. I could have been strong the day I got dizzy and that cretin got away. The girl might not have died. I could have avoided all these weeks of uncertainty. All I needed to have done was go back to the god damn doctor.

I had just been too fucking stubborn to go. And I had to admit it wasn't just because I was stubborn. It was because I was scared. I wanted to wail and scream and climb the walls. I wanted to pound something until either I or it broke. The last time Dave was this angry, he beat that bastard to death. But I just sat there. Because acting out, hitting, screaming – all of that would have been too easy. It was a luxury I couldn't give myself this time. It was time to grow the fuck up.

I scratched at my nails and saw that a little bit of the red Kool-Aid was still under my cuticles. It was a reminder of the blood that I could never scrub away. Maybe I had needed that lesson as much as Dave had. Echoes of my past overwhelmed me as I remembered talking with both Daddy and with Dave about this; it seemed like it was so long ago. 'If you're afraid you're going to die, then you will.' It was your basic self fulfilling prophecy.

I had pushed through all the difficulties of being a superhero with one basic belief. No one could beat Hit Girl. That belief guided me through every scary thing I had done. I'd walked into crack dens, faced murderers and rapists; all without the slightest fear that I would fail. I wasn't even afraid to die, because dying really wasn't failure. It would have meant I'd given everything I had. No shame in that. Daddy had done his best and still died. But he hadn't been afraid.

But it turned out someone could beat me. I had the same arch-nemesis that so many heroes in comics had; themselves. I could wallow in it. I could cry. I could quit. All the heroes considered these options. But finally, just like all of those redemption moments they went through, I also realized it was time to pull up my big girl pants and get the fuck over it.

OK, so very few of them had big girl pants. But you get the idea.

Dave jumped about six feet when the first gunshot went off. I'd gone over to the range, picked up my favorite pistols with the purple grips and, for the first time in what seemed like years, loaded them. My hands were shaking a bit until I made myself calm down. I'd braced myself just like Daddy taught me and squeezed off that first shot. It felt amazing.

Once Dave saw I was OK, he just stood there and watched. I worked my way through every clip I had, and when I stopped to reload them, Dave took the opportunity to go grab me a coke. I took a drink, gave him a wordless look of thanks, and went right back to shooting. By the time I quit, my pistols were a part of me again. I sat down at the table to clean them and Dave took one of them from me and helped. When we finished, we cleaned everything else up including the remains of dinner and then suited up. I'd had enough of all this emotional shit. Hit Girl was back. And it was time to get back to work.

Sadly, our patrol was uneventful. Kind of a letdown really, after going through all of these epiphanies. I'd been ready to kick some serious ass. But even still, I was smiling the whole time. When dawn started to lighten the sky, it was with a joyful heart that I headed home. Dave was right beside me, holding my hand now. We slipped back into the safe house, stripped, and climbed into bed. Dave wrapped his arms around me. "I love you." He breathed into my ear. "I love you too." I said. And we slept.


	15. Chapter 15

So, I was back in the saddle. The dizzy spells had been conquered. I'd accepted that the bullet to the head didn't mean I needed to change who I was. Holding a gun no longer made me want to piss myself. And, speaking of saddles, I was riding Dave on a regular basis. And I was having a fucking blast.

The world was perfect. Totally fucking perfect. Rainbow, unicorn and fluffy bunny perfect. Dave and I trained, ate takeout, patrolled, and fucked all the way through the rest of Spring Break. And, workouts felt so good now, no more doubts or worries; just the joy of pushing my body as far as it would go. Also, I think New York is one of the best cities in the world for take-out. Some many amazing ethnic foods and most of the restaurants open 24 hours. Then, when we were out, we took some total shit bags off of the street, sometimes leaving them for the police and sometimes leaving them for the coroner. Finally, Dave and I were experimenting to see how many of the positions in the Kama Sutra were actually physically possible. They generally fell into one of three categories; 'wonderful',' ow', or 'why the hell would anyone decide to fuck like that?' It was still a lot of fun.

Shit, I even started thinking about getting a cat.

At the end of the week, there was only one thing missing.

My period.

RELAX! I'M FUCKING WITH YOU! I'M EVIL THAT WAY!

It was true that I hadn't gotten my period. But it wasn't a surprise. I was young and athletic. It wasn't unusual for my body to skip them from time to time. I'd even anticipated this when Dave and I had started fucking and picked up some pee sticks so I wouldn't stress out if it happened. So, I stayed calm, pissed on the stick, and waited until it verified that there wasn't a baby on the way. Then, just because it would be fun, I decided to mess with Dave. I 'accidentally' left the box on the counter and the stick in the trash. But not until I'd spent an hour searching the safe house for a marker just the right color to turn that minus into a plus.

Dave got home, used the bathroom, and then came out and started working on his homework. He didn't react at all. Shit! I chatted with him a bit and either he was a better actor then I thought, or he just hadn't noticed. So, I went into the bathroom and made it a little more fucking obvious. I pulled the stick out of the trash and tried to make it look like I'd tried to shove it back inside the box but it had gotten caught. I flushed the toilet and waited about five minutes to cover the supposed time for the test. I spun the box and make sure the words 'Pregnancy Test' were nice and visible, then slammed the door open and stomped over to the couch. This was going to be epic!

I spent the next hour trying to look upset and not burst into laughter and ruin the joke. He didn't react at all. Fuck. He had ignored the stomping, and when he finally asked me about my day, I tossed out a hint and told him that I'd thrown up again this morning. He asked if I knew why, and I responded that I didn't want to talk about it. That should have gotten his attention. But, he still didn't have a fucking clue. His only reaction was to act concerned and offer to take care of dinner. Double fuck! This joke was taking way too much effort. Finally, he went to the bathroom again. Yes! I'd finally get the payoff I'd been working for. I grabbed the piece of onion that'd I'd stashed in my pocket and crushed it in my fingers. I heard the toilet flush, the sink running as he washed his hands, and then about the time I figured he'd be drying them, he emitted an inarticulate scream of panic.

He came out of the bathroom staring at the stick. Before he could look up, I rubbed the onion below my eyes and got the tears going. Shit that stuff stung. It was worth it though. This was going to be absolutely fucking brilliant.

"Umm, Mindy…" Dave said, holding the stick like it was a snake that had already bitten him. "Is this yours?"

I looked up at him and even managed a sniff. Shit, my eyes hurt; that onion was really working. "Mine? What in the fuck do you mean, mine? It's OURS, asshole!" I rubbed my lower belly in a kind of circle then turned away and pretended to be upset. This gave me a few precious seconds to smile before I had to put the mask back on.

"But we used condoms… And you're on the Pill too…. How…." Dave trailed off.

I tried to sound resentful. "You know how Dave. Son of a bitch! I can't believe you would do this to me! I mean, sure, I got a little turned around and forgot my pills for a couple days but I figured the condoms would be enough. " I decided to twist the knife a little more. "Where in the fuck did you buy those things anyway? The fucking Dollar Store?!" Holy shit, the look on his face was priceless. I couldn't believe I forgot to set up a camera.

"Look, it'll be OK. We're together in this. Whatever you decide, I'll support you." Dave sounded so calm. There was no doubt in his voice. He would support me in anything. What the fuck?

I almost started to cry for real. I mean, this was supposed to be a joke, but if I had really been pregnant, I couldn't have asked for a better reaction. I should have stopped but a part of me wanted to know what else he would say. "Decide? What the fuck do you mean decide? I'm keeping it, of course. I mean, anything could happen to us. To me! To you! How could I possibly abort something that could live on if we died?!" I was rather shocked to realize how much I really meant it.

What in the fuck was wrong with me? This was supposed to be a joke and somehow I wasn't joking anymore. Where was all of this coming from? But I didn't have the slightest idea how to get out of this stupid joke gone wrong. He was being so goddamn supportive. It was amazing to find out how much he cared and what an wonderful guy he was. Hell, I even started to wish that I was knocked up! I didn't want to ruin that closeness when I told him the truth but I'd dug this hole all by myself and it was time to climb out. I'd just have to go with honesty and hope he forgave me. I grabbed him and kissed him hard. Then I led him over to the couch and sat down with him. "Look, Dave. I don't know how to say this now. I mean you've been so amazing, but, umm, I'm not really pregnant."

He looked confused. I held up the pink fine tip marker that I'd used to fake the test and drew a little plus sign on my hand. His expression crumbled.

"What?!" His voice actually cracked. "Is this some sort of sick joke?"

"Um, it was supposed to be a funny joke, but it didn't work out that way." I said, trying to sound calming. He really didn't seem to like the sound of that, so I started talking faster to avoid interruption. I explained about faking the test and how I thought he'd just freak out and then I'd tell him and we'd laugh. I told him I didn't mean it to get this serious but when he was so wonderful, I got carried away. I showed him the piece of onion I'd used to make it look like I was crying. I tried to put the best spin on it that I could but it even sounded lame in my ears. Finally, I just hugged him. "I'm sorry. It was stupic. But, Dave? If it had been real? Like, seriously real? Would you have stayed with me? Supported me? Supported a baby if that's what I chose? I mean, you weren't just saying all of that in the moment, were you?"

"Mindy? My first real time out as a superhero put me in the hospital. And I still went back out there. I don't give up on things. I don't give up on people. I will never give up on or abandon you." He wrapped his arms around me and pressed his face into my neck. I could feel the wetness from the real tears he had shed. "I love you Hit Girl. I love you Mindy Macready." He paused to catch his breath. "But if you ever fucking do that again and there isn't a real baby, I'll….. I'll…."

"Pull my asshole out through my mouth?" I suggested, trying to lighten the mood.

"Yeah, that." He said, still choked up. He squeezed me tighter.

"I love you too." I breathed in his ear. And I did love him, in a way I hadn't even thought of before today. Then I said something that I still can't believe. "Maybe, someday , when we're ready, when we're sure, I mean, like, together we could have a… have a…" Now I was the one that couldn't finish a sentence.

"Baby?" he whispered, with excitement in his voice that he completely failed to hide.

After a long pause, during which I had to decide if I really meant it, I whispered back. "Yeah, that."


	16. Chapter 16

I woke up the next morning with what I can only call an emotional hangover. I couldn't believe what I'd said and felt yesterday. I wanted a baby someday? Fucking seriously? What the fuck had happened to me? I'm Hit Girl! Not Hit Mom!

It did force me to start thinking about the future, which I'd been avoiding for a long time. Marcus invested a lot of time and effort in giving me a chance at a future without being Hit Girl. And, while I decided that his future wasn't the one I wanted, I still had to figure out what I wanted in my life.

Dave. I wanted Dave. That wasn't even a question. But what did I want with him? Marriage? Well, some kind of permanence but I didn't know if we'd ever go to the trouble of making it legal. Kids? Probably. A house in the suburbs? No. Fuck that. Not a god damn chance. I had to stay in the city. A job…. Well, I kind of had a job. But being a superhero was like being a professional athlete. Your career might go on for years or it might end tomorrow. And even if you didn't die, you still couldn't play the game forever. When we finally give it all up, my four million dollar nest egg (yes, four, I've been adding to it…) was enough to live on if we behaved ourselves and didn't buy too many jetpacks. But I'd be bored stiff and that wasn't really the life I was looking for.

Bigger than that, and maybe part of what Marcus was really trying to make me face was that being Hit Girl wasn't a life. It was a passion. It was a mission. It was kind of a job. A job he didn't want me to have, but still, it was a job. And while I knew without a doubt that being Hit Girl was who I was, I needed more. Daddy, well, he was Big Daddy; he had his revenge and he had me. Looking back, I had to separate being 'Big Daddy' from the actual revenge on the D'Amico's because it wasn't strictly necessary to create comic books about the people you're going to kill. Or to own over 200 guns. Or to have a rocket launcher, or 'bazooka' in Chris's words, in every safe house. Dave was more right then he knew when he said Daddy was nuts.

Sorry Daddy, but I have to admit that while you were right about the rocket launchers, truth is truth. You did work to destroy people who deserved it and you truly died a hero. But you were crazy. I can admit that now. But that doesn't make me miss you any less.

I was interrupted from my musings by a dripping sound over in the corner.

You know that phrase, that that into every life a little rain must fall? Well, the cocksucker who came up with it wasn't kidding. In this case, it both rained and leaked right through the fucking roof. The next few days were filled up with calling roofers and then hiding all of the cool shit when they arrived so they didn't think we were psychos and report us. It was a lot of fucking stress and Dave really couldn't help because he was in school most of the time. At the end of the week, I was rather proud of myself for organizing all of the chaos and not knee-capping any of the roofers when the final bill claimed that the ten hours of actual work time somehow equaled twenty five hours on the bill. I just pointed out the security cameras that I hadn't managed to hide and they corrected the 'billing error' almost immediately. Dave rewarded me on Saturday when he declared it was Mindy Orgasm Day and decided to see how many times he could make me cum. Twenty three is now my favorite number, but I was feeling a bit sore and chafed on Sunday.

The big question of 'What should I do with my life?' continued to haunt me. I filled my spare time completing every life goal quiz out there that I could find on the internet. They weren't all that helpful. I wasn't going to be a Weather Girl or a Librarian, for fuck's sake. When we were patrolling, I caught myself people watching when I should have been asshole watching. I kept hoping that I would see something or someone who would inspire me. But, no matter what I tried, I just couldn't figure out what the next part of my life should entail.

While I was at it, I also filled out some quizzes in Cosmo about what kind of lover Dave was. He had a few deficiencies so I left reading material for him on his pillow. He threw it on the floor and declared he was going to fill my 'deficiency'. Since my 'deficiency' was feeling hot, wet, and empty after reading the sexy articles in Cosmo, I didn't complain.

By 'deficiency', I meant pussy, in case you weren't following along.

Summer was coming and since the nights were getting shorter, so were the patrols. And they'd already been boring as fuck. This increased the pressure I was feeling to find more things to do with my time. If I couldn't find a life goal, at least I could do something interesting. I tried painting. I sucked and managed to hide the evidence before Dave got home. I tried going out to sing Karaoke, but all the good places for that are in bars and even with a top notch fake ID (a new one that said 21 instead of 18), the bouncers just laughed and wouldn't let me in. I actually enjoyed knitting for an entire afternoon before Dave came home and laughed so hard he almost threw up. Eventually I had to agree that Hit Girl knitting was pretty fucking funny, but he was still a bastard for laughing like that.

It was time for something new to fall into my life. I wonder what it will be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find out what happens next in 'It Takes One to Raise One'.  
> Find out what happened before all of this in the prequel 'Out of Town'.


	17. Chapter 17

"Once upon a time, in a far off land, a purple princess lived in a large city. While she was there, she met a green frog. The frog was kind of a dumb ass and didn't realize that guns work better than stupid fucking sticks but she eventually got him to see the light and pack some heat. She was just a little girl when she first met him, but when she lost her Daddy and started to grow up with the green frog, she realized that maybe their clashing colors could be together after all. Then she kissed the frog and he got a hard on and…"

I crumpled up the paper and threw it on the floor to join all my other vow righting attempts. Sure I like to swear, but I don't think the phrase 'hard on' belongs in my wedding vows. I'd been working on this for a week and I had to admit that I completely sucked at writing romantic shit.

But I don't suck at sucking, if you know what I mean. Wink Wink…

No, I'm not fucking showing you. You'll have to ask Dave. And if he shows you the video I let him record last week which he extra, extra promised to delete later, he and I are going to have a very serious conversation. With a rope and a whole lot of number 10 ex-acto blades. Or is it the number 11's…. Fuck it. The little tiny triangle ones, OK?

Yes it fucking matters!

Anyway, the wedding was getting closer and I really wanted to say something special to commemorate Dave and I getting married. I know I'm not all that respectful of authority or serious situations. But this is Dave and he's worth it. So I was still plugging away at writing the perfect thing for our perfect day.

Maybe I shouldn't think of it as a perfect day. Might jinx it. I mean, Spiderman thought he was going to have a perfect wedding and then the fucking Green Goblin had to show up with those sodding pumpkin bombs.

Seriously, why would anyone go to the trouble of making your bombs look like pumpkins? If you're not fighting near Halloween, you just look like an asshole.

And yes, sodding. I've been watching a lot of British shit, OK?

The real issue wasn't the vows. I could just google something that sounded good and Dave would never know the difference. But what I really needed to do was find a way to open myself up. I need to somehow be more than 'Mindy in the safe house' or Hit-Girl on the street. I needed to somehow prove to myself that I was, well, a woman. Not a kid. That I somehow owned my identity, my morality, and even my sexuality.

And that's when I got the idea. It was totally fucking insane. And while writing fancy shit wasn't my deal, complete barking insanity was pretty much my specialty. If I could do this, if I could pull this off… well, then I'd be able to stand before Dave on our wedding day confident in beginning a new life.

I shook my head and tried to clear it. It was so easy to get distracted and despite my new plan, I still needed some fucking pretty vows. So I grabbed another piece of paper and tried again.

"You're sure?" Dave asked for what must have been the fiftieth time.

I rolled my eyes. "I'm sure. I've talked to Marty about what he's planning for the bachelor party and I'm fine with it."

"But he wants to…" Dave trailed off, probably uncertain exactly what Marty had told me.

"I know exactly what he wants to do. In fact, he even ran it by me before he told you. Seemed to think that if he tried it without my blessing, I'd remove his spleen."

"Would you have?" Dave asked carefully.

"Nah. I'd let some blood out of him but it wouldn't be that serious."

"Are you sure he told you the truth?" Dave pushed, obviously still afraid. "

"I'm sure. He's going to take you to a not too skeezy strip club. Topless only and as far as my sources can tell, none of the 'dancers' are secretly hooking to supplement their income. You're allowed to look. You're allowed to get a little drunk, but not so bad that it will fuck up the wedding. Is that all correct?" I asked. Dave nodded and I continued. "I'm okay with it. Go with him. Have some fun." I pulled a big stack of one dollar bills out of my pocket and shoved it into his hands. "Be a nice pervert and tip the girls generously. Shit, you can even buy a lap dance or two. I hear the club has some new girl starting tonight. Maybe you can be her first customer?"

"You're shitting me." He replied. I could tell that he was excited at the night of freedom but convinced there was a catch.

"Nope. Not at all. Look, bachelor parties are conventional and every once in a while, we need that in our lives. Tonight is one of those nights. Have a normal bachelor party. Try not to get too drunk, okay? Those ID's should be good enough to get you past the door security but if a cop tries to pull them up in his system, they'll ring like a fucking carnival. So get moving. Shoo!" I said, trying not to laugh at his expression.

"Don't you want to go out too? Call Miranda or something?" Dave asked, his reluctance starting to fade.

Dave finally just shook his head, grabbed his jacket and headed out the door. I puttered around the safe house for a bit, putting the finishing touches on Bethany's flower girl basket but I kept an eye on the clock so I wouldn't completely lose track of things. I'd been a little worried when Dave kept fighting this Marty's great idea because it neatly dovetailed with my plans for the evening. But he'd left and I just had some time to kill before I left. I puttered around a bit more, trying to settle my nerves. Around ten, I finally grabbed my own jacket and headed out. I hailed a cab and, when I got to my destination, I went around to the back entrance so no one would see me. My plan would be totally fucked up if anyone ID's me. Then I knocked on a solid steel door a couple of times before it popped open.

A tall guy who was probably named Nunzio nodded at me and held the door open a bit farther so I could squeeze in. He led me down a tunnel like hallway to a small room. "Everything you asked for is in there. We had to be a little creative. We don't normally get people your, umm, size."

I stared at him. "Is there something wrong with my size?" I asked.

"Nah, it takes all kinds. We just usually get them taller."

"Taller?" I asked. "Don't you mean, umm, bigger?" I asked, kind of vaguely indicating my chest.

"Nah. Lotsa girls don't seem to eat nowadays so we get a lot small tit girls. Seems dumb to me. Big bazooms, big ass, big tips. It all goes together. So you might as well eat, right? Plus they'd probably be a little nicer because they wouldn't be so fucking hungry all the time. But no, almost all of them seem to survive on popcorn and diet coke. Somehow, though, short girls don't seem to go for this kind of thing." He said, then turned and headed farther down the hall. "I've got it all set up for you at 11 so don't take too much time getting used to it, OK?"

I pulled out the bottle of hand sanitizer I had with me and basically sprayed down the room. I mean, I had a baby coming and I didn't want it to be born with hepatitis. Or amebic dysentery. Or whatever the fuck else might be in this place. Then I made sure the door was locked and went ahead and stripped down to my skin.

Yes. Stripped. It's a scary word but I might as well get fucking used to it because I was about to do it. In public. On a stage. And before you ask, I haven't lost my mind and this isn't some sort of perverted dare. I was going to strip. In public.

Put your dick back in your pants please and I'll explain. Unless you don't have a dick…. Then, umm, maybe take your hand out of your pants?

Fuck.

Look, this isn't as crazy as you may think. I'd come up with this who idea of baring my soul by baring my body. Owning my identity and my sexuality. Because seriously, if I was confident enough, who fucking cares who sees me, right? And if I could do this, then I could let go of some other things, like having to be in control all of the time. That was really the other problem that I saw in marrying Dave. If I didn't let off the gas a little, I was going to run him over before we were married a year. I didn't want to become little subservient Mindy…

Well, not outside of an occasional romp in the bedroom and you all know that in BDSM, the sub is actually the one in charge…

Stop fucking blushing.

What I wanted to do was be equal with Dave. And that meant lowering some barriers. And, as it turns out, my panties.

Well, not really, I was only going topless. I'm not totally fucking nuts. But 'lowering your panties' sounds better so I was going with that when I explained it all to Dave afterwards. And as it turns out, Mother Nature was kind of on my side. Since baby was on the way, I finally had big enough boobs for this but I wasn't so far along that my stomach was poking out. So, this might be my only opportunity to really shake things up. Literally.

Have you noticed that I ramble when I'm nervous?

Anyway, I'd come up with this plan and been all impressed with myself. And I'd scouted out the place and then approached the manager. I figured I'd really have to talk him into it, maybe even bribe him. As it turns out, I didn't. Apparently I'm not the first bride to be to have this idea. In fact, so fucking common that he even had a brochure to show me with all of the available options. Apparently once pole dancing classes went main stream, this bachelorette stripping thing kind of took off. The manager even said that he'd done a groupon once but 37 bridezillas all coming in to strip on the same night had almost destroyed the place.

Holy fuck am I nervous about this.

I decided to focus on the practical and I selected an appropriately slutty outfit that would still cover a decent amount of my body. Then I slowly put it on, checking each strap and seam to make sure they'd hold. I was going to be in charge of what I did or did not reveal tonight, not some piece of shit loose thread. I suppose it was kind of weird to try to cover anything given my stated goal but… Baby steps…. The outfit wasn't that much different than the bathing suit that I'd worn on vacation. It had lace but it also had some nude fabric backing so the audience wouldn't immediately know how much pubic hair I had. The bottoms were kind of a cross between regular panties and a thong. It just covered the top half of my ass and that part only with lace. I was pretty sure it was going to stay put (this was a topless only place so I wasn't actually allowed to take them off even if I wanted to…) but I was glad I'd gone ahead and endured the pussy waxing that Miranda had insisted on because, even if I was careful, thinks could slip and… I'm sure you have the appropriate mental image. It had hurt like fuck but they'd removed everything but a little strip at the top of my pussy to prove to the world that I was older than 12. I figured it would be a nice surprise for Dave.

Fuck. Yet another use of the word 'strip'. I'm going a little bonkers here.

I donned the last piece of clothing, a lace and leather mask that obscured my face but still left me beautiful. I hadn't decided if I'd toss the thing away at the last moment or not but wearing it would probably be the only thing that let me step onto that stage without panicking. One last piece of armor. Then I looked at myself in the mirror.

I was… hot. I know it's fucking weird to say that about yourself but, well, I was. I had a white lace bra that fastened in the front. Below that, a garter belt encircled my waist. White transparent stockings covered my legs with a white seam going up the back. I have no idea why a seam in stockings is sexier but holy fuck, it is. They clipped to the belt with four white straps, each of which could be released with a little flip of a finger. Under that was a brief pair of lacey white panties. They weren't a thong and they weren't boy shorts… I don't know what they're called. But they covered the top part of my ass and left the bottom part out to be seen. Over that, I had a short plaid skirt and the rest of a catholic school girl uniform that had severely shrunk in the wash. A knock at me door and a 'You're up, doll face' let me know it was time to face the stripper music.

Doll face? What was this, 1920?

I followed Nunzio up to the stage and waited for it to be my turn. They'd made sure that Dave had a good seat and that he hadn't run out of bills to tip me with. That last was a nice touch and one that I never would have thought of. But apparently after the third bride had gone postal when her groom was too broke to shove a dollar in her panties, they'd started making sure he still had some money.

The music changed and I walked out. I'd tell you what I danced to but I don't remember. Not at all. What I do remember was how it felt when every single eye in the house locked on me. Any fear that I'd still harbored about running away vanished. I controlled the room. I decided what they got to see and how they got tempted. It was beyond a rush. I danced around the stage. I twirled around the pole, even flipping myself upside down. Gravity gave them the first view of my panties and the room cheered. I shrugged out of the school girl jacket and tossed it backstage. Guys were holding out bills hoping for a closer look at me but I was having too much fun dancing to bother collecting the money right now. My shirt was tied beneath my breasts and the crowd howled to see a bit more of me. I quickly looked over and saw that Dave was cheering along with them. He obviously didn't have a clue it was me which was just how I wanted it for now. I moved closer to him while removing the shirt and danced away before he got too good of a look. It got tossed away too and I spun and twirled, my tiny skirt flaring out as I turned. I flipped down into the splits and flipped the first catch on my right stocking. As I pulled myself back up, I flipped the second catch and then, bending forward to give them plenty of cleavage, slid that stocking down. I threw that one at Marty for the fuck of it, not caring in the slightest that he was here. I released the catches on the other stocking while spinning around the pole, a feat I was kind of proud of. Then I moved center stage, dramatically spun, and unbuttoned my skirt. It whirled around my legs like a hula hoop as it slowly dropped to the floor.

Now that I think on it that was probably some sort of stripper foul. I suppose a professional would have removed both stockings and then the skirt but fuck it, this was fun.

Feeling daring, I turned my back to the audience and then bent over to touch my toes so that they were staring at my lace panty clad ass. After a good long pause, I slowly pushed the second stocking down, widening my stance so they might even see the outline of my pussy stretching against the fabric. I glanced at Dave again and actually saw him realize it was me. His eyes widened and his mouth dropped open. His reaction was priceless and I almost ruined the dance by laughing. In fact, it was so wonderful that I decided not to ask him to explain why he identified me while staring at my ass instead of my face. I slowly rose back to a standing position and took a quick spin around the pole so I could peek at Dave again.

Dave nervously glanced from side to side and then grinned stupidly at me. Then, after a club guy nudged him, he quickly held out some bills to tip me. Actually, he held out the entire stack of money he had left at first before the club guy spoke to him again and obviously told him to slow down. Damn, these guys were really taking good care of us. Definitely a five star review on Yelp. I walked over and let him slip the bills into my panties. Some other guys flung money on the stage and I gave them another view of my ass when I walked over to pick it up.

A scantily clad woman who was probably then next dancer waved at me from off stage. And then pointed at her wrist. That must mean that I'm almost out of time. If I wanted to strip any farther, now was the time. I glanced down at myself nervously. All I had left was bra, panties and mask. Shit. Shit. Shit.

I reached behind myself and couldn't seem to find the clasp. Panicking, I looked offstage at the helpful time stripper who obviously rolled her eyes before miming unhooking her bra in front. Fuck it, I'd forgotten about that. Trying not to giggle in my nervous relief, I turned back to the crowd and moved my hands to between my breasts. My shaking fingers released the catch. My bra instantly loosened but I held it in place while trying to psyche myself up to actually take it off. Then I managed to shuck it away while still keeping my breasts covered by my hands. I'm not sure how. Some bending of the laws of physics or shit like that. Panicked, I looked up and managed to catch Dave's eyes. His expression was both excited and a little shocked that I was actually going to go this far. And then this magical thing happened. We had an entire conversation with nothing but tiny changes to our expressions in the space of only a few moments. Okay, I'm full of shit. It was just a bunch of looks. But I like to pretend the conversation went something like this.

Dave: You're really gonna show your tits?

Me: Yes, shithead.

Dave: You don't have to do this for me.

Me: I'm not doing it for you, asshole. I'm doing it for me.

Dave: Oh. Why?

Me: 'cause I can do what I fucking want!

Dave: Seriously, why?

Me: 'cause… fuck it. I don't know. To prove I'm grown up enough to really marry you and that I can do whatever needs to be done in a non-violent sense and that even though I'm pregnant I'm still attractive and to, like, do something completely crazy before we get married and fuck, I don't know.

Dave: Can you try that again? I didn't quite catch all of that.

Me: Shit! I said that I'm doing this to prove to you and to myself that I'm an adult. That I can handle strange situations. That I'm still wild even if I'm going to get married and have a kid. That, well, fuck it all. I'm Hit-Girl and I can do fucking anything! And god damn it! I finally have boobs big enough that stripping isn't stupid and maybe this is my one chance to show them off!

Dave: Sorry, all I got was that your boobs are big.

Me: FUCK FUCK FUCK!

Dave: I like them, by the way.

Me: FUCK FUCKETY FUCK FUCK FUCK!

Dave: Look, I do and will support you in all your choices. Even this. Whatever you want, you do. I'll still be there for you. Always.

Me: Well, that's really helpful, you dumb shit. I'm still the one on this stage holding my hands on my tits! What do I fucking do now?

Dave: I don't know. But you're running out of music so, seriously, shit or get off the pot.

Me: What did you just fucking say?

Dave: I love you.

Me: Oh. Must have misunderstood. I love you too. But I'm still going to kick your ass later. I'm not sure what for but I'll figure it out then.

Dave: LOL

I broke my gaze away from Dave's and looked back at the audience. Contrary to what I'd been thinking, I didn't have a single damn thing to prove, either to myself or to anyone else. I could be sexy and strong and powerful and nurturing and a mom and a whole fuckton more things if I wanted to. Dave would be there regardless and, whatever dumb fucking thing he decided to do, I'd be there for him too. That's the way it had been all the time we'd been together and, at the very least, a ring was going to make that bond stronger instead of weaker. This had been a blast and I was proud of myself for completely jumping outside of my comfort zone. But some things were just for Dave and I slipped the clasp back together and, after a calming breath, shouted out to the audience. "Sorry guys! These are only for my man. 'Butt' I hope you enjoyed my ass!" And I bounded off stage before I could change my mind.

Miss stripper time clock was doubled over laughing but managed to hand me a robe so I could cover back up. Then she gave me a sisterly hug, which was deeply weird because her boobs where already out and mine were barely covered. "Don't feel bad!" she said, trying not to laugh again. "Most brides go running off the stage before they get half as far as you got. So be proud of yourself. Anyway, they'll be taking your guy back to a private room now. Go join him and you can do whatever you want with a little bit more privacy."


End file.
